


Return

by WillowTea



Series: The Legends of Arthur [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate History, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reincarnation, same world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2018-12-05 14:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 26,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11580156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowTea/pseuds/WillowTea
Summary: One thousand years have passed since the fall of Camelot. Merlin lives alone in a world completely different from what it once used to be. When the former residents of Camelot’s court start to show up in London, England, Kilgharrah’s prophecy starts to come true. As the world spins into turmoil with the rise of magic in the modern day, Merlin must work with Arthur once more: the twist? Arthur doesn’t remember Merlin.





	1. The Return of Magic - Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently watched Merlin, binged it all within two weeks, and I felt empty inside when I finished. I have never been as into a show as I was, and still am, with Merlin. So, I thought, why not write a fic? Not just any fic, oh no, but a continuation of the series. **This fic is written as if the show never ended.** Season five still ended the way it did, but it goes from there. 
> 
> The only AU part of this is in the history. England did not end up exactly the way it is now, though there is some use of democracy, it is still majorly a monarchy. There is still a king in power who makes all the ultimate decisions with a small council of nobles. Citizens are free but the power still remains majorly in the hands of the few, though they aren't as wont to abuse it.
> 
> It will be four 'books' with thirteen chapters each. This is to echo the whole seasons and episodes pattern of an actual show.
> 
> Thank you to my beta - [Mshushu22](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mshushu22) \- and my Brit picker - thepurplehedgehogs on Tumblr - for helping me out! (Feel free to let me know if there are some mistakes, my tenses were weird throughout the whole thing)
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it! Hang in there, it's going to be a long, bumpy ride!

Late night air tickled Merlin’s nose as he pushed his way through his cottage door. It’s late October and the weather couldn’t have been nicer. The smell of fresh rain wafts through the air and Merlin takes a deep breath. Another day, he thinks to himself as he closes the door behind him. 

It has been centuries since Arthur died, but every year around the same time, Merlin visits Avalon and sets down some flowers in remembrance of his king. After a millennium without his friends and those he called family, Merlin has distanced himself from society, but he never stopped remembering them. 

With another deep sigh, he pushes down the trail carved through the bushes by his own feet. It’s well worn until he reaches a fork. One path leads to the road and further on toward town. The lesser worn path leads toward the lake; tonight Merlin takes this path. The familiar plants brush against his skin. Despite taking this path only once a year, he still recognises it, the familiar trees having grown a bit taller, the bushes extending their branches a bit farther. 

As he walks he mutters spells, shrinking the lengths of branches that reach too far into the path, clearing moss and small bushes that cover the once cleared path, and growing boughs to canopy the trail mystically. He likes it this way, beautiful and serene. If anyone were to find this path, they would know it meant something to someone.

Coming through the end of his tunnel of bushes he crosses the short distance across bright green grass to the edge of the lake. Dew transfers from grass blades to his shoes as he walks, his thick boots pressing the blades toward the damp dirt with delicate care. Reaching the edge of the lake, he crouches near the water and places a small gathering of flowers on the surface. Whispering another spell, the flowers drift out into the water.

Merlin watches them closely as they disappear from sight, too far out to be visible on the murky surface. As he watches nothing, something rises from the water and makes its way toward him. With a fond smile, he awaits the approach of the object, the shape of a head coming into focus.

“Merlin, why do you come every year?” The woman asks, approaching close enough to be heard. Her head rises no further above the water than to her shoulders, but her beauty is visible in the fall of her damp hair and the big eyes centered on her face. Nothing could compare to Freya when it came to beauty, and Merlin missed her touch.

“You know why, Freya. I pay my respects to Arthur and all of Camelot every year.” Merlin responds, waving a hand behind his bum and dropping into a sitting position, knees pulled to his chest. Simple spell casting without thought had become habit when no one was around or he was with Freya. Drying the ground for a moment would do no harm, especially since no one ever came back this way.

“It eats you apart, Merlin. You’re losing hope every time you stop by. You cannot lose hope, love, it will ruin you.” Freya frets, her eyebrows creasing with concern as she looks over Merlin. He chuckles hollowly and shakes his head. The conversation has been the same for nine hundred years. After the first hundredth time he stopped by, Freya started to worry for him. Kilgarrah had said Arthur would return, but the details on how and where had never been divulged. 

“I’m too afraid I’ll forget, Freya. I can’t forget him, not now.” Merlin replies, his voice soft as his eyes dodge her warm gaze. Centuries had turned into a millennium and nothing had been more heartbreaking to Merlin than realising he had lived a thousand years without his closest friends, only Freya to keep him company once a year.

“You’ll never forget him, Merlin, but you cannot keep hurting yourself this way.” Freya consoles, inching just a bit closer. The young woman had aged in a similar way to Merlin’s own aging. That is to say, she was the same as she had been the day he had lost her. Beautiful, young features adorned her and she looked more beautiful than when they had first met. Merlin looked in the mirror and felt as if he had lost pieces of his very soul with each passing year. 

“I won’t, I promise.” Merlin responded, finally looking back into her eyes and locking them for a moment. There was a gentle silence as the light, night breeze blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and causing the surface of the lake to ripple lightly. Freya smiled when she finally decided she trusted what Merlin said.

“Where do you plan to go next?” She asked, lifting beautiful, pale arms to the surface of the lake and resting her chin on them. The lake supported their weight as if it were a hard surface. This novelty had worn off ages ago, but Merlin still loved how very human she seemed for an ancient spirit. 

“London.” Merlin responded, picking absently at the laces on his hiking boots. They were his most comfortable pair and the most similar to what he had worn as a young man in Arthur’s court. Whenever he visited Avalon, it was often in the same outfit, small alterations due to the changes in style, but otherwise the same. A brown jacket thick enough to ward off the cold, a blue jumper, and a red scarf clothed his body and he felt most at home in this outfit. 

“You go there a lot, Merlin. Don’t you want to try somewhere else?” Freya inquired, creasing her eyebrows once more, this time in confusion. Every year it was the same. Merlin would visit the grave of his once and future king and then he would travel for a year in a single city or town, usually somewhere in the United Kingdom, occasionally to other countries. Only really to major cities, if outside of the country, but there had been times where he had been drawn to other towns in the States or the Middle East, sometimes even small Chinese villages had drawn him in. 

“I know, but it’s been twenty years. Plus, the monarchy is there. I want to see what’s changed since I last stopped by.” Merlin replied, shrugging noncommittally as he said this. London was the most obvious location to stop at. It was t hree hours from Avalon and his cottage, so it was the easiest to reach. It was where the English monarchy had settled and he felt drawn to it the most. In one thousand years, Merlin had visited and stayed in London two hundred and fifty times. 

“Of course. Stay safe Merlin. Remember, I’ll be here if you ever need me.” Freya commanded him, her gentle admonition endearing. Merlin smiled gently in her direction, earning a similar smile in return.

“You know me, safest man alive.” Merlin joked, glad to receive a giggle from the lake spirit. She shook her head, scolding him with her eyes alone, but disappeared beneath the water nonetheless, vanishing from view in mere seconds. 

With a deep sigh, Merlin rose to his feet and brushed his bum clear of dirt, turning on his heel toward the cottage in the woods. He had lived there for centuries, having built it himself after Camelot had fallen. No one knew where it was, mostly due to enchantments, but also because no one liked to go near the forest of Avalon. They all thought it was haunted. Stories of ghosts and spirits and strange happenings came from those who dared venture inside.

Of course, there were no ghosts, just Merlin.

Running slender fingers through thick, dark hair, Merlin turned down the path toward the cottage, thinking about what he would need to bring. He had already packed most of his things, though he rarely ever unpacked. The longest he had ever lived in the cottage was for the first year after he built it. His stays were no longer than a month at a time. 

Kilgarrah had said Arthur was to return, but when and where he would return were two questions Merlin had never asked. This meant that he had spent his entire life searching for the once and future king all over the world, running into plenty of trouble along the way. Home may have been a comfort, but he couldn’t afford to remain there much longer than a month at a time.

Upon reaching the cottage he slipped inside where magic worked its way around the room without his need to focus on it. All he really thought he would need to grab was some money and then he could leave.

“The sooner the better.” He muttered to himself, glimpsing the many reminders of Camelot’s day around the cottage. Not only did he need to spend his time looking for Arthur, just looking at the reminders of the life he had lost so long ago was enough to make him go mad. 

 

The trip to London was shorter than most, considering the big city was so close. He only had to take a rather expensive cab ride there and find his way to his flat. Stretching his legs, Merlin stepped out of the cab and looked around the busy, bustling streets of London. He was near the very heart of the city, a beautiful epicenter Camelot could have only imagined.

“Oh, mate, don’t forget the payment, would you?” The cabbie shouted through the rolled down window, leaning as far into the passenger seat as his seat belt would allow. Merlin turned, an apologetic look on his face.

“Of course.” He muttered, busying himself at his pockets as he pulled out what he had brought and began counting what he owed the man. After a little bit at this he finally gathered it all and handed it through the window. The cabbie flicked through the stack before eagerly accelerating away. Exhaust puffed into the air, making Merlin cough and wave his hand before his face, but he was glad he had reached his destination. 

Picking up his belongings, he pushed through the busy crowds, shouldering across the stream of people toward the door to the building. The door took a while to open, but with a little nudge from his magic he was able to get it. The best thing about large crowds was that it made it easier to do small magic, making life just a bit easier. Usually, though, Merlin tried to avoid too much magic in the city. 

Pushing his things up the stairs, he approached the first floor with quite a bit of effort. Despite a thousand years in this body, at this age, Merlin had gained very little strength and still found it difficult to walk up the stairs. 

On the landing between the second and the first floor, he paused to take a breath, whipping around swiftly when he finally decided to continue and colliding straight into another person. 

Thuds and thunks sounded as Merlin dropped his bags and attempted to catch both himself and the person he had run into. It was of little use, as his bags found their way back down to the first floor and the person landed with an unpleasant thump against the first stair on the second staircase.

“I am so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going, I should’ve been paying more attention.” Merlin apologised, pushing himself up after landing almost on top of the person. His hands rested several stairs above their head, propping him above them. Before he could manage to right himself and offer a hand to help the person up, he froze.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I should have been watching where I was going. Silly of me, I know.” She responded, not even noticing the gaping expression on Merlin’s face. Rubbing her head as if she had hit it pretty hard, she finally looked up and they locked eyes. For a moment there was nothing but silence.

Then Merlin realised he had been staring.

“Sorry, sorry. You just-you look like someone I knew.” He rambled, pushing himself to his feet and offering a hand for the woman. She chuckled lightly and took his offered hand, assisting herself with his solid form, brushing curly locks of dark brown hair from her big eyes. 

“Really? I’ve never heard that one before.” She said, brushing off her front and looking up at him under lidded eyes. It was an expression he only ever saw in his memories, centuries having passed since the last moment he knew it. 

“Never…heard that one?” He asked, her tone sounding as if it was some sort of normal occurrence to hear something like this. ‘That one’? Whatever did that mean?

“Chat up line? I’ve never heard it used on me before, though I have heard men use it on friends, just never on me.” She explained, pulling her elbow length blouse sleeves down over coco brown skin, her freckled cheeks scrunching up when she laughed. She had stepped clear out of his memories, her personality was even similar.

“Chat up line?” Merlin asked, sounding like an absolute idiot. Gwen’s look-alike widened her eyes and dropped open her mouth.

“Oh! You weren’t hitting on me? Wow, I’m sorry, that’s usually what happens when I meet someone for the first time.” She apologised, looking him up and down as if sizing him up. Merlin was still extremely confused about what she was talking about. He knew about chat up lines and ‘hitting on’ and all the modern slang for courtship rituals, he hadn’t been living under a rock. It was still striking and uncanny the absolute identical nature of this woman to the past queen of Camelot. 

“Wait, so I do look like someone you knew?” The woman asked, realization hitting her as she asked this question. Merlin nodded slowly and, soon enough, his voice found him again.

“Yes. You look just like an old friend.” He responded, smiling crookedly as he said it. What an amazing coincidence! He had been alive for a thousand years and this was the first time he had ever run into someone who looked just like Gwen! 

“That’s amazing! Wow, um, I’m Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen.” The young woman stuck out a hand as she said this, but Merlin froze again. For a moment too long, he appeared to be ignoring her hand, but then he snapped right back to reality and hastily took it.

“Merlin. Sorry, you have her name, too.” Merlin finally responded, awestruck by her never ending similarities to the woman he had once called a friend. Gwen’s brow creased as she shook Merlin’s hand.

“Really? That’s amazing! I’ve never heard the name Merlin before, except in stories. Did your parents name you for the wizard in the Arthurian legends?” Gwen asked, snapping Merlin back to his senses. Mentally kicking himself, he forced his head to nod and then he laughed a little, hoping it didn’t sound as forced as it felt. 

“Yeah, they were obsessed with the legends.” Merlin replied, realising that the first time he had ever given someone his real name in centuries just had to be around the virtual reincarnation of his king’s wife. What if she really was Gwen returned from the past and she just had no recollection of this? Did that mean that the entire court of Camelot was currently residing in London?

“That’s really cool. Are you visiting someone in the building?” Gwen asked as their hands dropped from the shake. Merlin’s found their way awkwardly to his jean pockets, tucking nervously into the deep folds as if to hide them from Gwen. He creased his brow, wondering whatever gave her the idea that he was merely visiting when he remembered that they had fallen on top of each other. 

“No, actually…I…live here.” Merlin muttered, looking down suddenly and finding his bags were no longer at his feet. Recalling the events of only moments ago, he whipped his head around and looked down the staircase beside them to where his bags sat on the ground floor. “Bugger.” He whispered, ducking away from Gwen and racing down the stairs.

“Really? So you just moved in?” Gwen called, leaning over the railing to watch as Merlin struggled with his bags back up to the first landing. Now out of breath, Merlin set them back down and nodded his head, shrugging as he did so and wondering what he should answer. He hadn’t been to London in twenty years, but had owned the flat since it was first built almost fifty years ago. He rented it out whenever he was away and generally avoided the building supervisor when he was in. Luckily, the woman seemed to change every time he stopped in. 

“Uh, yeah. Just moved in.” Merlin muttered, words coming between breaths as he panted, hunching over his bags and then straightening with a single, swift breath.

“Do you need any help?” Gwen’s question hid behind amusement, her expression reading similarly to if she had been the woman Merlin knew in Camelot. Like when he had been caught going through Morgana’s gowns one too many times. Giving her a crooked, split second grin, he shook his head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll make it. You seemed to be in a hurry, anyway.” Merlin pointed out, shuffling his bags over so he wasn’t in Gwen’s way. As he said this, she pulled her phone from her pocket – ingenious devices Merlin had yet to understand – and gasped.

“You’re right, I’m late for work! Well, it’s been nice to meet you, Merlin! I’ll stop by your flat later to say hello. Have a nice day!” With that, Gwen raced off down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Merlin in a whirlwind of emotions. After a moment’s pause, he pushed his way toward the stairs and headed toward the third floor where his flat was. As soon as he reached the door he looked around and helped himself with opening the door. Silent spells had a less powerful effect, but unlocking a door didn’t need as much power. 

As soon as he was inside, he shut the door firmly and leaned against it. Staring blankly ahead at the blinds closed over the window in the other side of the room, Merlin attempted to calm himself from the strange events of the last twenty minutes. When he had told Freya he was returning to London, he hadn’t expected he would finally find what he was looking for. But with the appearance of Gwen, he was starting to believe the time had come. 

In a split second of complete disbelief, Merlin stood with his back against the door of the dark flat, staring at the lazy light drifting through the closed shades. 

“Oh my-“ He tried to speak but his words caught in his throat. Without his permission, tears started to gather along his lower eyelid and trickle down his cheeks. Choking silently he slid down the door until his bum was on the floor and his knees pulled to his chest. He pressed his hands to the sides of his head and ducked his face between his knees, body shaking with sobs and laughter combined into one horribly ugly mess. But he was alone, and no one was going to join him anytime soon. 

In that moment, he was allowed to cry.

But not with sadness. No, Merlin had waited too long to meet the Once and Future King once more and here was Gwen, the very woman he had known so long ago. Arthur had to be somewhere nearby. How was this going to play out? Gwen wasn’t entirely different in many aspects of her person, but she was completely different because she had been sculpted by fate to fit into the world in which she was born.

Despite his adaptation to the many wonders of the new world, Merlin had yet to completely blend in with it. There had been many occasions where he had been told his accent was funny, or that he had strange mannerisms, or that it was odd how little knowledge he had of technology despite his age. The world could tell he was different, though none knew how. Yet, Gwen fit into it tightly, her world was this one. 

Finally lifting his head, Merlin pressed it against the door and let out one last breath, a small, relieved laugh that could not contain itself. 

“Alright, Merlin. So Arthur’s probably back. So what? Kilgarrah said this would happen. You can’t just drop everything. He probably won’t recognise you. You have to remain patient for just a little longer.” Merlin spoke softly to himself, closing his eyes as he finished to take one more deep breath. With the exhale of this breath, he pushed himself to his feet, locking the door with a wave of his left hand and turning on the light with the wave of his right.

“You have to continue as if it isn’t weird that you just met Guinevere on the stairs. It will be just as strange seeing the rest of Camelot, if they really are here, but get used to it now. It might have been alright to brush Gwen off as someone you recognise, but things might get weird if you do it too often.” He continued, his voice low as he threw his hands this way and that, giving no commands but directing everything where to go nonetheless. 

The shades flipped up quickly, revealing London buildings next door with shades drawn. Light filtered into the room, giving the place more life. Directing the bags, he made his way into the bedroom. There were no sheets or covers on the bed, but the fix was easily made with another wave of his hand. 

Covers from the linen cabinet fitted themselves nicely onto the bed, pillows fluffed and stuffed themselves into cases before gently dropping at the head of the bed. His bags unpacked themselves into the wardrobe and the chest of drawers to the left of the large bed. It had been lonely every time he had stayed in it, but it was a nice comparison to the ones he had stayed in during Camelot’s day and in his various travels. 

With yet another wave of his hands the bathroom door opened and the cabinet over the sink flung itself wide. Various different herbs and medicines lined the shelves. Over the years he had worked on medicine a bit himself, learning what was in the pills recent doctors had created. Deeming certain medications unfit and others revolutionary, he kept a select few with him. Still, for other things he went back to his roots and used herbs and potions. 

Shampoo and soap flew into the shower along with a few self care goodies he planned on using to break in the bathtub. Glancing around the bathroom, he almost nodded his head with satisfaction when he noticed the brown tube hanging from the wall where the toilet paper usually was. Waving a hand lazily the cupboard beneath the sink opened up, but nothing came out. Leaning over he glanced inside and sighed when he realised that there was no toilet paper there.

“Bollocks.” He muttered, waving his hand and knowing that the whiteboard marker in the kitchen was making note that he needed to get toilet paper. He checked the drawers above the cupboard to make sure they still contained extra bars of soap. Once he was satisfied, he dismissively waved his hand one more time, sliding his razor into the drawer gently before shutting it as he left the bathroom. 

Re-entering the bedroom, Merlin glanced into the wardrobe once again and whispered a spell under his breath. Powerful protection spells lifted from a section of the wardrobe and a secret door above the shelf revealed itself. The aged wooden door was from the original layout of the building. It had been scheduled to be hidden by a new layer of paint and a board, so Merlin had cast a spell to keep it there.

With a flick of his wrist, the door creaked open, frustrated to have to open after so long. From it came stacks of books of many kinds. All of them left trails of dust behind them as they landed on the bookshelf in one corner of the small room. Once it was filled, Merlin closed the secret door, though there were plenty of magical objects and trinkets still inside, and placed the stack of extra blankets in front of it. 

Pleased with the bedroom, Merlin re-entered the living room and kitchen area where a thick layer of dust coated the sofa. Merlin had informed the building supervisor that she could rent the place out whenever she wanted, but it appeared there hadn’t been anyone here for a while. This didn’t bother Merlin much, but he did wave the dust off the sofa. 

Turning toward the close wall that sat across from the worn settee and chairs, he tutted softly at the ancient looking TV sitting on the table and the way it seemed to sag with the pleading to be released from duty. Perhaps he would look into getting a new one. Turning from the sad TV he faced the kitchen where the dusty countertops begged to be washed as well. 

This was an easy task and was accomplished with little focus as he turned toward the very empty cabinets. He huffed at their appearance and turned to glance around himself as if looking for something. He honestly didn’t know what he was looking for, he had finished unpacking everything. Turning on his heel when he had decided there was nothing else to do, he added dishes and food to his list. 

One more swift turn about the room allowed Merlin to sweep it all in. Freshly dusted furniture sat alone in the small space he hadn’t seen in two decades. Oddly enough, it looked just as he remembered it. Perhaps there hadn’t been another resident since he had been there last twenty years ago. It didn’t matter, either way, it was his place now.

Patting his pockets, he made sure he still had his wallet and then turned on his heel toward the door right as there came a knock. Giving the door a curious look, he pressed forward and swung it open, met with a rather young looking woman in her mid thirties. 

“You must be Colin. It’s finally nice to meet the man who owns the flat. I’m Ellen, I’ve been building supervisor here for three years.” The woman stuck out her hand and Merlin took it. He was surprised that she didn’t look like someone he knew from Camelot’s golden years, but he was also glad of it. If he had to run into another look-alike he would faint. 

“Right, yeah, I travel a lot, so it’s nice to be back.” Merlin responded, forgetting the name he had given when he had first bought the place. Hopefully Gwen wouldn’t have a run in with the building supervisor when he was around or that would be a sticky situation to work himself out of. 

“Right, well, here’s your key. My flat’s on the ground floor if you need anything.” Ellen said, handing him a key and then pointing generally toward the stairs at the end of the hallway. Merlin nodded, recalling where the old building supervisor’s flat had been. If it hadn’t moved, then he knew where she was talking about. 

“Thank you.” He responded as he turned to leave. Her hand waved lazily in the air as she walked away from him. Sometimes he wondered how the landladies never asked why he was so young. Ever since the first time he had moved in after being away for so long, he figured they simply just never asked. Previous landladies must have only informed their successors that a man named Colin owned the flat and he was almost never in. 

Either way, he was glad he now had his key, he wouldn’t have to use magic to get in. If Gwen did as she promised and anything turned out like it had a millennium ago, Gwen would see him a lot. That would likely include when he entered his apartment and if he didn’t have a key, he would have to ask the building supervisor. 

With a smile, he tucked the key into his pocket and exited the flat, locking it behind him and bouncing down the stairs toward the outdoors. Once he was on the pavement, he felt lost and confused, as was normal for every trip to London. He rarely visited cities too frequently unless they were mega epicenters. Since he hadn’t seen London in twenty years, much had changed and he wasn’t sure where to start. 

Turning on his heels he ducked his way into the crowd heading a specific direction and hoped the shops were all in the same place he remembered them being. He tucked his hands into his pockets and kept his eyes ahead of himself, trying hard not to brush shoulders with anybody. Merlin had grown uncomfortable with physical touch after being alone for so long. He rarely reached out to touch someone voluntarily unless it was to greet them. 

Touching strangers and huddling in a large crowd on a loud street was enough to assault Merlin’s senses, which were used to the quiet of a small town or his secluded cottage. The people seemed to direct him and he didn’t try fighting it, afraid he could provoke someone. 

Luckily, he was able to make his way to the street he best recalled as being the one with all the shops and was glad to find that there were still shops there, though very few were the same as they had been twenty years ago. Small cafés had cropped up in various locations down the large street and many different shops selling clothing or other odds and ends were scattered amongst them. Luckily, the supermarket he usually attended to was still where it had been, though it looked aged and worn.

Exiting the busy crowd he stopped inside and took a deep breath. The place was empty save a few shoppers here and there. It was a weekday during the busiest time of the day, so it was no surprise that there were few people in the market. Just the way Merlin liked it. Without hesitation, he grabbed a trolley and got started.

Some of his favorite things, like meat and salads were first on the list from the fridge aisles, along with a few snacks he had grown used to from various other locations. The usual loaf of bread along with deli meats and other good sandwich makings. He busied himself about the store, dropping item after item into his trolley until he had covered the entire shop. Looking into his cart he deemed the collection worthy and headed toward the checkout where he bought everything, getting odd looks from the cashier. It wasn’t often she saw someone so young spend so much.

Thanking her he grabbed bags that covered his arms as high as his shoulders and layered against his chest. People around him continued to give him weird looks as he labored under the load.

“Sir, would you like help?” The cashier asked as she watched him add one last bag to his arms with a lot of trouble. Merlin, grunting with the effort, shook his head. There was no way he was going to accept help, he could handle this.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Merlin groaned, turning toward the door, glad for the automatic function they possessed. He might have considered using a bit of magic if they weren’t already magic with the use of technology. Plus, everyone was watching him leave. It was a good thing none of them knew he didn’t have a car, or they would all be insisting they help him.

Once the warlock had exited the market he whispered spell under his breath and the bags became lighter. Slowly he drew his arms in toward himself and began down the street back toward the flat. As he wandered he looked over the names of each of the new shops that hadn’t been around the last time he had been in London. 

It both saddened and excited him to see the changes the city had made. He missed old shops he had visited quite often the last time he had been in London, but was drawn toward ones that looked interesting. One particular shop drew his attention out of nostalgia for its look.

The front was a light, unstained wood that gave the shop a woodsy appearance. The front windows displayed shelves of odd jars and boxes with labels turned in toward the shop. Merlin was able to identify various different herbs and medicines useful for increasing energy or helping with sleep. Intrigued by the contents of the shop, Merlin pushed his way through the door, finding himself inside of what could only be described as a dream.

Shelves were lined with bottles full of odd looking substances and plants. One corner of the room had pots filled with the source of these plants, growing over the edges of the pot, barely sprouting, or hanging from the ceiling. Certain tables sat in the middle of the shop with odd vials and bowls for mixing and combining. 

It was almost as if he was back in Gaius’ room in the castle at Camelot.

“Hello?” Merlin called, realising that the place appeared to have no keeper. It was oddly quiet save the relaxing sounds of some song Merlin couldn’t quite place. It was instrumental and lulling, as if ready to sing Merlin to sleep. 

“I’m over here!” The voice came from the far left corner of the room and sounded so frighteningly familiar, Merlin’s head turned toward the source slowly as if something might jump out and attack him if he moved too quickly. 

Standing at the top of a tall ladder, rummaging through a shelf of books, was a man. Merlin couldn’t see much of him from the back, but he had white hair pulled into a small ponytail and was wearing and light brown jumper that nearly matched his trousers and made him blend in with the shelving. 

“I’ll be down in a moment.” Without really meaning to, Merlin noted the nearly black, brown fingerless gloves on the man’s hands and choked back a sob. There was no way. Before Merlin could say anything in response, however, the man started down the ladder. Unfortunately, his foot slid on a rung and he began to fall.

Without thinking, Merlin caught him and lowered him gently to the floor. Still fighting sobs, Merlin let go and the man remained still, as if frozen. Suddenly, he turned on Merlin, eyes wide and mouth agape. Merlin backed away, frightened this time by the uncanny resemblance of the old man to his old friend. 

“What was that?” Gaius’ look-alike asked. Merlin had a sneaking suspicion his name was going to be Gaius, despite the odd nature of the name in this day and age. Merlin shook his head, feeling himself resort back to his younger self in the days when he first started living with Gaius. He felt dumb, remaining silent as Gaius approached him, looking excited and confused. The first time Merlin had ever met Gaius, he had assumed the man was mad at him for using magic. Now he could easily recognise the look of pure joy on the man’s face.

“Did you just use magic?” Gaius asked, his voice dropping to a low whisper, eyes darting about the room as if there was someone there to overhear. Merlin shook his head, taking in the wrinkles and smile lines, the brightness in his eyes and the shade of his hair. Every small detail was the same man who had died a millennium ago.

This was worse than Gwen.

“I’m not mad at you, boy. Magic has been outlawed for centuries, I thought it to have died out.” Gaius explained, looking Merlin up and down. Not only was the resemblance to his former father figure numbing, but the situation was straight out of his memory. 

“I-I….” Merlin tried, fighting the tears so hard it was almost painful. Nothing was holding them back and they began to fall, Merlin dropping his bags and throwing his arms around the unsuspecting man. “I’m sorry, you don’t know me. But you look like an old friend I haven’t seen for a very, very long time.” Merlin mumbled into his shoulder, afraid this was going to make the man wary of him. 

The exact opposite happened and, instead, arms folded around his back and patted him firmly, a comforting gesture almost identical to the one Merlin had felt so many years ago. 

“That’s fine. Just, um, take your time.” Gaius muttered, his arms resting where there were for a moment. Merlin sighed a deep breath, controlling himself as quickly as possible. He had become a mere shell of the boy he had been when he first met Gaius. He had remained empty since the deaths of his friends and filling them with the exact same people so suddenly was overwhelming him.

Slowly he pulled back, looking Gaius in the eyes before taking a full step back.

“Do I really look that much like this man?” Gaius asked, looking Merlin up and down as if really taking him in for the first time. Merlin laughed while he nodded, trying to hold in how he believed that this Gaius was the very same Gaius from so long ago.

“What was his name?” The man asked, turning toward the back of the shop and gesturing for Merlin to follow. Glancing at his bags, he hesitated to follow but did so after casting a small spell to keep his frozen food cold. 

“Um, Gaius.” Merlin responded, not surprised at the response he received from the old man. He froze where he was and turned immediately, giving Merlin a strange look. 

“My name is Gaius.” He pointed out, narrowed eyes looking Merlin over again as if it would make a difference that now Merlin could apparently guess names. Merlin nodded, his smile dropping from his face as he looked down at his feet, shuffling his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Yeah, well, I already re-met my friend Gwen from long ago, so you’re not the first.” Merlin responded awkwardly, looking back up at Gaius who gave an unsure nod. It was such a familiar gesture, Merlin felt a pang in his heart just seeing it. 

“So this is normal for you?” Gaius asked, turning back around and heading toward the back of the shop, through a door into a small sitting room with a few fluffy looking chairs. Gaius sat down and gestured for Merlin to do the same as the warlock responded.

“Not at all. This has never happened to me before.” Merlin had seen plenty of strange things in his time, but re-meeting all of his old friends? Now that certainly took the biscuit, especially when he had finally settled with the fact that necromancy was a broken, dark magic that never worked the way the user intended it to. 

“Is it happening because you have magic?” Gaius asked, settling into his chair with a small groan. Merlin sat down on the edge of the chair Gaius offered, clasping his hands over his lap and leaning forward. Looking down at his feet he nodded.

“You’re one of few that still believe magic even existed at all. Most think it’s no more than a fairytale, but few remember that it’s still against the written laws.” Merlin started, not sure where he was going with this. Gaius in the past had been the only one to know he had magic, but that couldn’t be the case again. As soon as he met Arthur, he was going to have to tell him about his magic. He could outrun Uther. Even if he couldn’t, life had very little to offer anymore, telling Arthur would do him little harm.

“I have been put on this world to make sure that all are equal, especially those with magic. I succeeded…a millennium ago and, now, it’s happening all over again.” Merlin continued, not looking up, afraid of what Gaius’ expression would be. For a moment there was nothing but silence as Gaius took it all in.

“You’re a thousand years old?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but he still spoke with awe and wonder rather than doubt and hate. Merlin felt a little more energy enter his body and he straightened up, feeling tears welling in his eyes again. Still, he forced himself to look Gaius in the eyes.

“Yes. I have been alive for more than a millennium. I’m Merlin, though few call me by that name anymore.” Merlin responded, taking in the way Gaius’ eyes lit up and widened, the way his jaw went slack in the same way it had when Merlin had used magic to save him. It was the same look he had seen so many times on Gaius’ face and it felt good to see it again.

“You’re the Merlin?” Gaius asked, his voice not so much disbelieving, but surprised and in wonder. Merlin felt a crooked smirk cross his face, but it was a hollow feeling of amusement. 

“Yeah, the very one from the legends.” Merlin confirmed. Gaius simply nodded his head and fell back into his chair, nodding his head slowly as he brought his hands together over his stomach. He turned to look back at Merlin with narrowed eyes.

“But he’s an old man.” This comment made Merlin scoff angrily and he flung himself backward into the chair, crossing his arms angrily over his chest.

“That crotchety old man was a party trick. I only ever use that disguise when I might see someone I knew and it’s clear I haven’t aged a day. I haven’t used it in years, though, since I no longer meet the same person twice anymore.” Merlin huffed, turning his face away from Gaius as he grunted angrily.  
“So you’ve been alone for a millennium?” Gaius asked, his excitement dropping a bit at the sobering subject. Merlin turned his head back to Gaius and nodded with a small shrug.

“It’s not bad. I haven’t been completely alone, though, I still have Freya.” Merlin informed him, feeling the hollow parts where family and friends used to be echo as he said it wasn’t bad. It had been the worst time of his life, living alone in the years after all his friends passed. 

“Who’s Freya?” Gaius inquired, his curiosity reminiscent of the Gaius from Camelot’s day.

“The Lady of the Lake.” Merlin responded, getting a small, shocked gasp from Gaius. He couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at this response. It really wasn’t a big deal that Freya was the Lady of the Lake and it should have been no surprise to Gaius that Merlin knew her. He was a millennium old and the very Merlin from the Arthurian legends. 

“Anyway, since both you and Gwen have appeared, I can only assume Arthur has as well. Uther and Morgana must be around here somewhere.” Merlin muttered absently, pushing himself up straight in his seat. “And the knights. It’s been a millennium since I saw the last one pass, it makes you wonder what they’re like in the modern day, huh?” Merlin asked, looking over at Gaius, whose eyes had grown wide and his mouth had dropped open once more.

“What?” Merlin asked, recognising that look as Gaius’ surprised face. Something had just occurred to Gaius that he hadn’t thought of before, but he wasn’t able to respond as a voice come from the shop area.

“Gaius? Are you there?” It was a woman, the accent just as Merlin remembered it, his blood running instantly cold. Gaius gave Merlin an apologetic look and pushed himself from the chair, groaning with the effort. Merlin could vaguely hear Gaius responding to the woman and their friendly chatter through the door, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to get up. What if Kilgarrah’s prophecy played itself out the exact same way it had the first time around? Was Morgana a threat to Arthur’s reign once more? If she was, what was Merlin to do? Killing her seemed just as easy as it had been one thousand years ago.

Taking a shaky deep breath, Merlin realised he had to leave before he made a rash decision. Pushing himself quickly to his feet, he rushed toward the door, figuring he had been sitting still for a good twenty minutes or more. When he reached the shop, however, Morgana was still there.

“Thank you, Gaius. I don’t think any pill a doctor could prescribe would do as well as your droughts.” She was saying, her bright, white smile rimmed in stunning red lipstick. Her black hair was pulled back into a tightly woven braid topped with a red beanie. She wore a couple of layers of jumpers and skinny jeans that accented a figure Merlin had never seen in the days of Camelot.

She was drop dead gorgeous.

Merlin froze.

“It’s nothing, Morgan. You know I would do anything for a friend.” Gaius responded, tucking something under the counter before turning around as if to grab something else. He started when he noticed Merlin, but let a smile crack his face as he remembered the warlock.

“Merlin, you frightened me. Don’t come out of nowhere like that.” Gaius scolded, just like in the old days. Morgan – Morgana – turned her head when Gaius spoke, a surprise look on her face for a moment before letting out a small smile. 

“I didn’t know Gaius had a guest! If I had, I wouldn’t have called on him.” Morgana’s tone was apologetic, but Merlin was having trouble snapping himself from the trance he found himself in. Luckily, Gaius approached to grab something from the shelf beside Merlin and smacked him in the stomach, jolting him from his stupor.

“N-no, it’s fine. I dropped in because the shop looked interesting. It just happened that Gaius looks like an old friend of mine.” Merlin stammered, not sure exactly what he was going to do. Maybe Morgana was nice in this timeline? She didn’t seem to be particularly evil, but she had also been the sweetest person alive in Merlin’s early days at Camelot, as well.

“Really? Gaius is an old friend of mine. He’s known me since I was a child.” Morgana said, stepping around the front counter and closer to Merlin, her hips swinging in an oddly hypnotic way. Merlin mentally kicked himself for staring and brought his eyes to hers. Morgana could turn evil, he hissed to himself, plus, you still have Freya. “I’m Morgan Pendragon.” She stuck her hand out for a shake and Merlin took it slowly, glad she didn’t notice his hesitation.

“Merlin. Wait, Pendragon?” Merlin’s brow creased. Morgana already knew she was Uther’s biological daughter? Or had she never been taken under his wing like in Camelot’s day? She didn’t appear to be dressed like royalty, but it had been twenty years since Merlin had been in London.

“Yeah, yeah, adopted daughter of the king. I get that a lot, but it shouldn’t scare you, I’m just like everyone else.” Morgan brushed it off as they dropped hands. “Merlin, huh? Like the legends? I was named for Morgana, but I prefer Morgan. It doesn’t sound as evil.” She chuckled lightly at this as if it was funny that she was named for the evil witch in the legends.

“Er, yeah. My parents were obsessed with the legends.” Merlin responded, feeling the tension he had made up melt away. Perhaps she wouldn’t be so bad, he just had to get to know her. 

“You should meet my brother! That would be amazing! Merlin and Arthur, back together again!” Morgan laughed loudly at this and Merlin tried his best to force a laugh as well, but the way she said his and Arthur’s name together made his throat tight and his eyes water. He couldn’t show emotion, she didn’t know he was the real Merlin and her brother the real Arthur. 

“That would be amazing.” Merlin laughed, casting a quick glance Gaius’ way. The old man was smiling fondly, as if this exchange was something he saw every day. Looking back toward Morgana, Merlin tried his best not to look visibly overjoyed at hearing Arthur’s name.

“That’s so weird, isn’t it? Morgana, Merlin, Arthur? It’s like the legend is coming to life.” Morgana chuckled, looking over at Gaius, who offered a small laugh as if to confirm the silliness of this proposition. “Who else was in that legend?” The young woman turned back to Merlin, her bright eyes alight with joy and amusement.

“Well, er, Guinevere, Percival, Lancelot, Gwaine, eh….” Merlin started, thinking of his friends from the past and stopping short at Gwaine. The other knights were not listed in stories of Arthur’s reign. They were barely remembered in the annals of history, which disappointed Merlin, but he knew he could not list more or Morgana would start to question him.

“Gwen! Of course! I have a friend named Guinevere! We should go visit her and tell her about the rise of Camelot in London!” Morgan clapped her gloved hands together and jumped for joy, turning to Gaius for a moment. “Thank you again, Gaius, this has been wonderful. Merlin and I are going to go.” She informed him, her happy demeanor not fading for a second.

“Of course. Come again any time, both of you. You’re more than welcome here.” Gaius responded, waving a gloved hand as Morgana turned on her heel and headed toward the door. Merlin glanced quickly behind himself at Gaius, who shooed him with a little motion of his hands, and then stumbled after Morgan.

“Wait, Morgan. These are my bags.” Merlin called as the girl pulled open the shop door, well passed Merlin’s grocery bags. As she turned, the end of her braid whipped around, nearly smacking the doorjamb. 

“Really? Did you drive?” Morgana asked, looking at the large pile of goods dumped haphazardly onto the floor. Merlin shook his head, deciding not to mention that he didn’t have a license. “You walked here with those? Well, it’s a good thing I brought my car. We can drop your things off at your flat before going over to Gwen’s.” Swiftly she rejoined Merlin, bending down to grab several bags. With messy haste, Merlin took the lightening spell off the bags, glad that Morgana struggled to straighten up with the full weight of frozen meat in her arms.

“Thanks, but I think Gwen lives in my building.” Merlin replied, grabbing the rest of the bags and following Morgana from the building. As she headed a short way down the road, she let out a small huff as if to say ‘really? How interesting!’.

“What makes you say that?” Morgan asked, stopping beside a rather expensive looking sports car. Merlin looked the thing over with awe, pleased at the sleek design of the vehicle. Cars had been an amazing invention, the sports car had always been Merlin’s favorite. Granted, he did love the classic look of cars from the fifties, these sports cars looked almost like dragons.

“Well, er, I met a Gwen on the stairs of the building, earlier this morning.” Merlin said, forcing himself out of his state of awe before the car to go shove the bags into the backseat. Morgana straightened up to allow him to do so and then shut the door as soon as he was done.

“Gwen is a pretty common name, unlike Merlin. Did she have dark brown hair and dark skin?” Morgana asked, gesturing for Merlin to go around to the other side in order to get in. Merlin trotted around the car quickly, slipping into the low riding seat and feeling his nerves buzz. He had ridden in very few cars since the invention of the vehicle, as buses were his most common mode of transportation, so a sports car made him both excited and nervous.

“Yeah, shorter than you, freckles.” Merlin responded, pulling the seat belt over his chest and making sure it clicked into place. He continued to look around nervously, taking in every aspect of the sleek car. 

“Sounds like Gwen.” Morgana mused, pulling her own seat belt over her shoulders and clicking it into place. As she started up the car she looked over her shoulder, checking for cars before pulling out into the street and zipping towards the T-junction ahead. Merlin pressed himself against his seat, frightened by her fast speed. Morgan shot him a sideways glance and laughed before turning her eyes back to the road.

“You look like a ghost, Merlin. Never been in a car before?” She teased, watching the road carefully. Merlin was glad she was rather careful on the road, but her speed frightened him. He chuckled nervously at her question, hesitating to tell her that he preferred buses to cars and that he really hadn’t been in a car since the late forties. 

“Not one this fast.” Merlin muttered, holding in the nauseous feeling in his gut. He willed himself not to throw up and closed his eyes momentarily to perform a small spell to reduce the feeling. It worked immediately and he was able to open his eyes and watch the road in case Morgana missed something.

“Well, you’re in luck. This is the fastest car in all of the UK. Father got it especially for me on my last birthday.” Her boasting seemed a little odd for Morgana, the woman had never seemed terribly proud of anything Uther had ever done for her, even before turning evil. Yet, here she was, proud that she owned the fastest car in all of the United Kingdom. The way she spoke was very much akin to the Morgana he had known, but what she spoke of was different.

“Mm, lucky me.” Merlin grunted, shifting quickly to the left as they took a sharp turn. At this speed, it wasn’t long before Morgan had pulled to a stop outside Merlin’s building. She threw the car into park and promptly clicked her belt, turning to look at Merlin. His hands were clasped to the nearest things he could hold and the knuckles on each of his fingers had gone white. He did, indeed, look like a ghost. More so than usual.

“This is it, then?” Morgana asked, nodding her head toward Merlin’s window and the building beyond. Merlin unclasped his hands from the armrests and turned to look out the window, slowly and as if he had been frozen only moments before. 

“Er, yep.” Merlin nodded, lifting his hands toward his face and rubbing it as if to regain feeling. Morgana laughed and punched him in the shoulder, making him actually freeze. She didn’t notice this, but pushed her door open and started getting out. A memory of Arthur punching him in a similar manner flashed across his mind.

“C’mon, I’ll help you with your bags.” Morgana called behind herself as she slammed the door shut. Judging it was best to get out at some point, Merlin released the seat belt and opened the door, stepping shakily onto the pavement. The building towered over him and he nearly fell over just trying to look up at it. Gathering his balance, he turned toward the back of the car where Morgan was pulling bags from the back seat.

“Get over here, lazy bones. I can’t carry all of this myself.” Morgana called, her voice clearly a bit strained as she pulled large armfuls of bags from the back seat. Merlin quickly joined her, pulling as many bags as he could grab from the seat before pulling himself from the crouched position. With little effort he closed the door with his hip and headed toward the front door to the building.

He and Morgana took the trek up the stairs with much effort, panting and heaving by the time they reached his flat door. With a lot of struggle and no magic, Merlin pulled his key from his pocket and stuck it in the door, turning it with just as much difficulty. Finally, he pushed the door open and dumped the bags onto the island in his kitchen. Morgana followed suit, dumping a few bags onto the floor that didn’t fit on the counter. Then she stood and took a look around as Merlin turned the lights on.

“This place is so…boring.” Morgana mused, placing her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. Merlin turned back towards the shopping bags and Morgan, giving her a sneer as if offended by her assessment of his flat.

“I only just moved in.” Merlin protested, beginning to pull things from the bags, tossing empty bags onto the floor to throw away later. He started with the cold stuff, a little pleased when Morgana joined him. As much as he preferred doing things alone, he couldn’t just use his magic and this would take ages without it.

“You could have at least brought some decoration.” Morgana shot back, tossing another bag onto the floor where Merlin had been tossing his bags. Scoffing, the warlock began to pack his items into the freezer and fridge.

“I didn’t have that much when I got here. Plus, I don’t really decorate.” Merlin replied, turning back to the island and grabbing a few other items off the counter. He started throwing things into cabinets haphazardly, not really organising anything. As long as it found a shelf, he didn’t care where it went.

“Alright, hold on. You need to organise things so you remember where they are.” Morgana dropped the previous subject and pushed Merlin aside and began dividing similar items into the same cupboards. Merlin watched, amused by her need to organise his things. Really, all he ever did was summon it anyway. There was no need for it to be organised if all he had to do was will that particular object toward him. He didn’t fight her, though.

“Whatever, if it makes you happy.” Merlin laughed, leaning against the island as she finished putting things away for him, tossing the last several bags into the growing pile. Then she proceeded to pick up the bags and begin to stuff them all into one. 

“Now what are you doing?” He asked, concerned that this woman was just going to take over everything in his life. Morgan scoffed and stuffed the final bag before tying the holding bag shut. 

“You never know when these will be useful. It’s best to save them, in case you need to carry something somewhere and you don’t have any other bags.” Morgana responded with a haughty tug of the knot. Then she tossed the bag full of bags under the sink before shutting the cabinet. Merlin watched all of this with an amused look.

“You’re extremely conscientious for the adopted daughter of the king.” Merlin pointed out, earning a glare from Morgana. 

“I wasn’t always his daughter. I lived several years without much money before Uther adopted me. I’ve learned how to live with the bare minimum. Which is what you appear to have.” Morgan responded matter-of-factly before turning away from the kitchen and heading further into the living room. Merlin refrained from telling her that he had been saving up his money for centuries and that he probably had more than the king. That probably wouldn’t float well with her.

“I told you, I didn’t have much when I got here.” Merlin muttered, following her as she appraised his main living space with a look of disdain. She turned toward the door to the bathroom, pulling it open and looking in before scoffing. 

“Even so, everything is so spartan it looks as if this place isn’t lived in unless you open a cupboard.” Morgan pointed out, opening the door from the bathroom into his bedroom. Merlin shot forward, determined to keep her from going into his bedroom. He was too late, as she slipped out of reach of his hand and into the small, cramped space.

“I thought you said you came here with very little?” Morgana asked, her tone slightly in awe but also a little high and mighty. Merlin followed behind her to find her staring at the massive collection of books sitting on the bookshelf and the floor surrounding it. He had always been planning on getting another bookshelf to hold the rest, but just had never gotten around to it. 

“Well, um, I own a lot of books.” Merlin said, dumbly. Morgana snorted.

“I couldn’t tell.” She responded sarcastically, taking a turn about the room to look at what little else there was to look at. Merlin was just about to insist they leave his room before she read some book titles when a knock came at the door. 

“C’mon, there’s someone at the door. You should probably be leaving.” Merlin said, watching Morgana as she took in the rather empty wardrobe save the blankets sitting in front of the secret door. He hoped it was hidden well enough, he wasn’t sure how he would explain that.

The knock came again and Merlin had to leave the room with Morgana in it.

“C’mon, just get out of my room.” Merlin called before pulling the door open and being met by the face of Gwen. She was exactly as he remembered her looking, beautiful and kind.

“Merlin! I’m glad you’re home! I wanted to stop by and say hello.” Gwen said, her kind smile capturing Merlin the same way it had when he had first met her back in Camelot. 

“It’s nice to meet you again.” Merlin said, wondering what else he was supposed to say in this situation. He was both relieved and mortified when Morgana exited his room right at that moment.

“Merlin, you have a few interesting books in there.” She was musing as she stepped into the living area and spotted Gwen. “Gwen! It’s so good to see you!” She exclaimed, stepping forward to give Gwen a big hug. Gwen looked just as excited to see Morgana, but shot Merlin a confused look.

“Morgan was taking it upon herself to assess my flat. She insists I need more decorations.” Merlin told Gwen as she pulled back from Morgana’s hug. Gwen laughed and gave Morgana a look Merlin couldn’t quite read. 

“How did you two meet?” Gwen asked, looking between Morgana and Merlin as if it was crazy that they had managed to run into each other. If it wasn’t for Kilgarrah’s prophecy, Merlin would have found it crazy as well. But he knew that he was destined to meet everyone all over again, even if he desperately wished it wouldn’t all play out the same.

“He was at Gaius’ shop. Said he stepped in because it looked interesting. When I learned his name was Merlin, I just had to introduce him to Arthur.” Morgana explained excitedly. Gwen gave her an amused look that was still laced with confusion.

“It’s everyone from the Arthurian legend.” Merlin explained to her. “Guinevere, Merlin, Morgana, and Arthur.” He tagged on, pointing to each of them in turn as he said their names. Gwen’s eyes widened and her grin exploded.

“That’s so cool! Who else is in the legends? We’re missing Lancelot, aren’t we?” She asked, looking between Merlin and Morgana. Morgana nodded and shot Merlin a look, something mixed between amused to as if she knew something he didn’t.

“Merlin probably knows who we’re missing. He’s quite the Arthurian expert, aren’t you, Merlin?” Morgana teased, making Merlin’s blood run cold. What was she talking about? Could she tell he was older than he looked?

“Wh-what do you mean?” He asked, nervous for the answer. All Morgan did was scoff and roll her eyes at him.

“You’ve got a gold mine of Arthurian books back there. You must be an expert.” Morgana explained, making Merlin relax, though he still felt a bit jittery. She had only seen the books he had in his bedroom. She may have seen other odd ones, but he was glad she only brought those ones up. Somewhere in that pile was the spell book Gaius had given him when he had first arrived in Camelot. 

“O-oh, yeah. I’m a big fan.” Merlin stammered, smiling as best he could with his nerves on end. He was so relieved that he almost felt like he was going to melt into the floor. Luckily, he didn’t and he managed to stay upright, running thin fingers through thick hair.

“Must have gotten it from your parents.” Gwen teased, nudging him gently as she said it. Merlin laughed and agreed, remembering that he had told her his parents were obsessed with the legends. It was a good thing he had unintentionally covered up that half of himself.

“So, who else are we missing, Merlin?” Morgana asked, this time her teasing nature not looking so intimidating. Merlin was glad for the excuse of being an expert, because then his extensive knowledge wouldn’t seem so strange.

“Er, well, Percival, Gwaine, Mordred, Leon-“ He was cut short by another knock at the door at which both Gwen and Morgana moaned with slight irritation, Morgana more than Gwen. Glad for a slight distraction, he turned toward the door and swung it open, ready to greet whoever stood there. 

Then he froze.

“Who are you?” Arthur asked, looking Merlin up and down with that judging look Merlin had seen oh so many times. It was enough to induce some sort of shock in the dark haired man.

“Answer me.” Arthur demanded, his judgmental look turning irritated in zero seconds flat. Merlin snapped from his stupor and stuck out a hand.

“Merlin, it’s nice to meet you.” He was thrilled to see Arthur. Nothing could describe just how happy he was to see the once and future king once more. But it didn’t seem that Arthur was excited to see him. Instead, he glanced down at the hand he offered, and brushed passed him.

“Morgana, what are you doing here? I suspected Gwen’s flat, but not the flat of a stranger. Father’s been wondering where you were.” Arthur completely ignored both Merlin and Gwen. In an instant, Merlin felt his heart drop. He knew Gwen, Morgana, and Gaius didn’t recognise him, but he had half been hoping Arthur would. Or that he would at least be a half decent prince.

Killgarrah had literally started him over from the beginning.

“I can go wherever I want, Arthur. Plus, Merlin’s not a stranger.” Morgana insisted, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. Arthur rolled his eyes and looked over at Merlin, giving him a once over before turning back to Morgana. It was the same look Merlin had gotten from Arthur thousands of times back in Camelot’s day. Despite Arthur’s cold demeanor, this look was enough to make Merlin freeze up again.

“Where did you meet him, then?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms in response to Morgan’s defence. 

“Gaius’. He was stopping by when I popped in. He’s named after the famous wizard from the Arthurian legends. It’s almost as if they’re brought to life, with you being the prince of England, and all.” Morgana said, not realising how close to the truth she really was. At this, Arthur turned toward Merlin, eyes looking him over once again as if there was anything new to see. Merlin watched his eyes carefully, reveling in the way they took him in. 

“Right, well, the legends have Merlin counseling King Arthur, and I’m no king. Plus, wasn’t the wizard an old man?” Arthur asked, turning back to Morgana. Merlin held back a scoff, avoiding making any noise until Arthur actually spoke directly to him.

“Merlin’s got a whole collection of books on the subject, I bet he knows more than you do.” Morgana boasted, gesturing to Merlin as she said this. This time, when Arthur turned to look at him, he turned his full body. Instead of glancing Merlin over, his shocking blue eyes locked onto Merlin’s and the warlock felt himself become paralyzed from the look.

“Really, you know more about King Arthur than I do? I find that hard to believe.” Arthur stated matter-of-factly. Merlin drew himself roughly from his stupor as quickly as his brain would allow. He didn’t want Arthur thinking he was an idiot, like he had all those centuries ago.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I know more. But I have been dying to meet you and hear what you know.” Merlin worded his response carefully, trying not to offend the prince. He knew how that had turned out before, it was best to keep himself humble in this situation. Hopefully, he stuck out his hand, wondering if Arthur would brush it off a second time.

Luckily he didn’t.

“Yes, well, I have been known to be a better expert than most, but really, you shouldn’t undersell yourself just because you find me attractive.” Arthur stated, firm grip warm in Merlin’s hand. It didn’t last long, but Merlin was reduced to a momentary state of shock from Arthur’s words.

“What?” He practically spat once he came to himself. Him? Find Arthur attractive? Whatever had given the self-centered prat that idea?

“Well, you have been staring at me an awful lot and most people who meet me for the first time know to bow when I pass. You, however, haven’t looked down this whole time.” Arthur clarified, causing Merlin’s eyes to go wide. His mouth flapped open as he tried to think of something to say in response. However, where words usually found themselves, there were none.

“I am flattered, really, but I don’t swing that way.” Arthur explained, waving a hand to brush Merlin off, who was finally coming to his senses, anger boiling just beneath the surface. That thick headed, self-centered, arrogant, clotpole! 

“Merlin’s been doing that all day, my lord. He did it to me too, he doesn’t intend to stare. I think moving into the city has him seeing things, my lord.” Gwen spoke up from where she had gone silent in the corner. Merlin was glad she said something, because he wasn’t sure he would be able to say anything rational.

“Really? Why can’t he tell me that himself?” Arthur asked, glancing over at Gwen for a moment before looking over at Merlin again. Gwen ducked her eyes a little lower and Morgana took a step forward, ready to defend Gwen. 

“I’ve just moved here and everyone I’ve met today looks like someone I knew a few years back. Er, you all even have the same names.” Merlin explained, realising how stupid that sounded. He appeared to be in his mid to late twenties, as did everyone else, but he said they all reminded him of old friends? That was hard to imagine when he was as ‘young’ as he was.

“Is that so? Does that include me?” Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. Doubt crossed his face as he spoke, making Merlin worry for his story. The warlock swallowed hard and nodded his head. Arthur smirked and his eyebrow lifted higher, if that was even possible. “Do I look like an old boyfriend of yours?” Arthur asked and Merlin felt himself choke on air, coughing roughly and shaking his head.

“N-no. Just an old friend.” Merlin responded, pounding a fist against his chest as if trying to dislodge something that wasn’t even there. Arthur chuckled and turned away from Merlin, the conversation done. Merlin finally caught his breath, glaring at the back of Arthur’s head. If Arthur took years to mold into the once and future king he was meant to be centuries ago, who knew how long it would take now.

“Come, Morgan, father’s worried and wants you back.” Arthur commanded, nodding toward the door at the same moment.

Without warning, and before Morgana and Arthur could leave, all the lights flickered out, leaving the gang in complete darkness. No light filtered through the windows and Merlin registered how late it was. The sound of someone scoffing came from just in front of him and he knew instantly it was Arthur. Rolling his eyes he whispered a silent spell before closing them to hide the flash of gold.

In no time he was able to see easily in the darkness. Looking around himself he observed the lights, which appeared entirely intact. Despite the mid autumn weather, there had been no storms today and none in the forecast. They had been inside the whole time chatting, but Merlin was pretty sure he didn’t hear any bad wind or hard rain. Turning quickly he flicked the switch on the wall by the door, flicking it up and down rapidly.

“What could possibly cause a freak black out in this weather? Could the fuse box have blown?” The voice was Arthur’s and it sounded farther away. Shuffling noises sounded throughout the room and Merlin figured everyone else’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and they were searching for a source of light.

“Maybe someone blew it themselves? Merlin, where do you keep your torch?” Morgan was speaking this time, her voice a bit snappy when addressing Arthur but level when she spoke to Merlin. Grunting at the lack of response from the light switch, Merlin looked around at his friends feeling their way about in the dark.

“I don’t have any.” He muttered, looking back up at the ceiling light. It hadn’t changed from the moment earlier, but he wondered if this was truly the electricity. He had never had a true run in with magic since the days of Arthur, a few scattered here and there, but most had been aiming to kill the king. No one cared for Merlin. Morgana had been the only one concerned with ending Emrys, but that was over now. Perhaps Morgan was right, and someone had sabotaged the fuse box. They did have the future king of England in their flat, he probably had countless enemies.

“You don’t have any? What kind of idiot doesn’t keep a torch around?” Arthur’s voice was incredulous and Merlin could just picture the expression on his face. It was the haughty ‘Merlin you’re such an idiot’ face that Merlin had eventually grown fond of. After having not heard that tone or seen that face for some time, it made Merlin’s skin tingle with goose flesh. It was frightening the way he resembled Arthur from back then.

“Hold on, I’ll go ask the building supervisor what the problem is.” Merlin informed the dark room, hoping that a non-magic solution would be successful. Turning back around he grabbed the door knob and turned it, only to find it locked. Jostling it a bit he found that it wasn’t just stuck, it truly was locked. 

“The door’s locked.” Merlin muttered to no one in particular. This was starting to look less and less like a non-magic situation. There was no way for someone to lock the door from the outside unless they had the building supervisor’s key. There was no way of unlocking it from the inside, either.

“What do you mean, the door’s locked?” Arthur’s voice was suddenly much closer, a surprise that made Merlin jump. He desperately hoped the prince hadn’t seen that, he didn’t want to be marked as a coward so early on with this Arthur.

“I mean, it’s locked. It can’t be opened. There’s nothing on the inside to unlock it with and the only person who could unlock it from the outside is the building supervisor, she had the master key.” Merlin snapped, not even caring anymore that this was the prince. He and Arthur had gotten along so much better when he had been entirely honest about how he felt toward the man. Well, mostly honest. He had to keep some thoughts to himself. 

“Move aside, I can kick it down.” Arthur’s voice drew further away as he spoke and Merlin instantly felt panic rise in his chest. If this really was a magic situation, then Arthur could be kicking right toward the danger. Plus, the door didn’t work that way.

“Hold on a second, it opens inward! Kicking it outward won’t do any good!” Merlin exclaimed, waving his hands and jumping in front of Arthur. There was no way the prince could see that action, but he stopped where he was and gave Merlin an annoyed look. Even with the lack of good lighting, Merlin could just picture the flame in his blue eyes.

“Well, then what do you propose, Merlin.” It ached for the warlock to hear him say his name that way, but he brushed it off as quickly as he could and shot the prince an invisible glare.

“One second, I need a plan.” Merlin muttered, looking around for any way out. They could always climb out the window, but they were on the third story and the old building didn’t have any way down. As Merlin thought up something, Morgana and Arthur started arguing over something stupid when a word caught Merlin’s ear.

“Do you think it could be magic, Arthur?” Morgana asked, her voice wary and doubtful, but frightened nonetheless. Merlin had been to London many times in his years, the law banning magic had been put back into place two hundred years after Gwen’s death. It had been reinforced so much that most with magic had gone into hiding. It disappointed Merlin that it had happened, but it was also the first sign of Arthur’s return, since that was the king’s purpose in the land.

“It was banned so long ago, Morgana. I don’t think it even still exists.” Arthur muttered in response, clearly set in his ways. There were many who believed magic still existed, but more who believed it had disappeared forever. The law remained in writing despite everyone’s doubts, just in case it ever came back. 

Merlin was pretty sure it was back. 

“Even if it did, who would attack a building housing citizens?” This time it was Gwen speaking, but it wasn’t out of actual doubt that magic was involved, but rather fear. Her voice shook as she spoke and Merlin realised she was one of those who believed magic still existed. She was rationalising why someone would attack the building, but Merlin knew the answer: they knew Arthur was here.

“Whatever the cause, we must get out of here.” Merlin stated, closing his eyes and whispering another spell as Arthur demanded how he proposed they do that. When his eyes opened, the lights were back on and the room lit from one corner to the next. Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen all looked shocked, but relieved. Merlin feigned the same expressions when there came a knock at the door.

“That must be the building supervisor.” Arthur determined, taking a step toward the door before Merlin had the chance to argue or stop him. The prince turned the knob with no effect. It was no longer locked, that much was true from the way the knob turned. But the door simply would not open, even when Arthur began jiggling the knob and throwing his shoulder backward in an attempt to open it. 

“Arthur, that’s clearly not working.” Morgana stated redundantly. Arthur rolled his eyes and scoffed, releasing the knob and turning toward his sister. He ran nervous fingers through his hair, face taking on a brave mask Merlin could see right through. This Arthur may not have been the exact same man from so long ago, but he was going to be. Not only did he look just like Arthur, he acted just like him. This was Arthur, so his mannerisms were the same. He just wasn’t where Merlin had left him so long ago.

“Why don’t give me another suggestion then, Morgana?” Arthur asked, voice irritated as he approached her. Merlin ignored their childish bickering and looked at the knob. It had an odd glow to it, as if it was burning hot, yet Arthur had not burned his hand on it. Merlin knew that glow. 

It was magic.

Stepping forward he placed a wary hand on the knob, taking a deep breath and feeling the powerful magic placed on the knob rush through his hand and up his arm.

“Merlin, I don’t think that’s going to work.” It was Gwen from somewhere behind him. Arthur grunted his agreement to this statement, but Merlin ignored them both. He knew they were going to ask questions later, but now was not the time to think about that. Plus, he had decided to not keep secrets from Arthur the next time he met him. Even if it meant being sentenced to death immediately. 

Then he pulled the door open.

There was no issue with opening the door. The knob turned and the door swung open without hesitation, like a warm knife through butter. Gwen gasped, Morgana letting out a chuckle and Arthur, probably, rolled his eyes. Merlin didn’t turn back to look at them because he was too busy focused on what was in front of him in the dark hallway.

Standing before him, dressed to the nines in a black leather jacket, black skinny jeans, flat heeled boots that rode to her knees, hair pulled back into a messy bun that was much too familiar, and bright blue eyes that stood out even against the dark back drop, was someone he had hoped to never seen again.

“Nimueh.” He whispered, eyes going wide as he took a step back. Even as the most powerful sorcerer in existence, this was not something he wanted to see.

“Emrys! Did you miss me?” She hissed, taking a step forward and throwing out a hand, eyes glowing gold.


	2. The Return of Magic - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Nimueh blasts Merlin and his friends with a spell, the prince is left ill and near death. Merlin will have to figure out how to save him: from prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since I've updated anything! This chapter has been sitting in my docs for so long, completely Brit picked and everything. I hope you enjoy it!

With a blinding flash of light, Merlin blocked Nimueh’s spell and sent everyone in the room sprawling backward. For a moment, Merlin was both blind and deaf, a high pitched ringing in his ears blocking out all sound. When he finally regained his sight, blinking dumbly, he was surrounded by Gwen and Morgana. Arthur crouched near him, but was looking toward the door with a confused expression.

“-erlin! Merlin! Are you alright?” Gwen was asking, a hand resting on his shoulder and shaking him gently. It had been centuries since he had needed to use that spell against someone and it had taken him by surprise. Part of it had to be because of the spell Nimueh had used, it had reacted badly to Merlin’s block.

“I’m fine, just a bit dazed.” Merlin muttered, rubbing his head and pushing himself into a seated position. He followed Arthur’s gaze toward the door, which had been blown off its hinges, and the empty, dark hallway beyond. Rain pattered angrily against the closed window behind them, filling the silence as Merlin’s hearing buzzed back into existence.

“What the hell was that?” Arthur asked, finally turning to look at Merlin, who was shocked to see that Arthur’s confused face was hiding fear just below the surface. Merlin knew that look, he had become accustomed to it, but it almost felt too soon to see it again.

“That….” Merlin’s voice faded as he turned back toward the door, the scorch marks around the edges of the dislocated door and its frame looking as if someone had blown the door in with explosives. “That was magic.” He sighed, realizing that now was as good a time as any to tell the three of them about his powers. Nimueh was back, and she recognised him. She knew his name and had sought him out. Why? How? Was it because she was born of the Old Religion in the same way Merlin was? If he hadn’t killed her that day on the Isle of the Blessed, would she have lived with him for eternity?

“Magic? That’s impossible, magic doesn’t exist.” Arthur protested, his tone clearly showing how much he doubted what he was saying. Merlin looked right at him, raising an eyebrow, ready to snap back when Morgan beat him to it.

“Arthur, you can’t possibly think what just happened wasn’t supernatural.” She shot back, looking up from Merlin to Arthur, giving him a look that challenged Arthur’s authority. Everything they said and did brought Merlin back to the past and he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to handle watching them. It was almost too much.

“Well…what if she had a detonator in her pocket? And there were explosives on the door?” Arthur asked, standing and gesturing to where the door lay against the sofa. The scorch marks along its edge suggested what Arthur said was true. But that was his only evidence.

“How did she know you were going to be here, then?” Morgan asked, standing as well and placing her hands on her hips. Merlin refrained from correcting her assumption that Nimueh had been after Arthur, there was no need to try and explain everything right now. He’d get there.

“And why didn’t the explosion burn? It only threw us back, I didn’t feel any heat.” Gwen offered a hand to Merlin and helped pull him up as she pointed this out. Merlin knew she was right, whatever Nimueh had cast, it had not been intended to make such a big bang, and Merlin’s shield hadn’t been intended to harm anyone, since his friends were all too close.

“Besides, the door isn’t damaged at all, just scorched. Explosives of that power would have damaged it.” Merlin tagged on, brushing himself off as if he needed to. Gwen and Morgana nodded in agreement and Arthur rolled his eyes, approaching the door and brushing his fingers over the edges. They came away with faint, black powder as if the door wasn’t burned but had simply collected too much dust.

“Fine, so this wasn’t natural.” Arthur grumbled, giving into their words. Merlin approached the door as well, brushing his fingers against the powder and pressing his fingers near his nose. He got a few weird looks, but ignored them as he rubbed the powder between his fingers to get a feel for it. It was burned and almost unrecognisable, but after centuries working with certain materials and spells, Merlin recognised it.

“She intended to poison and kill. This would have made it slow and painful.” Merlin muttered, brushing the black powder off the edge of the door. It sprinkled lazily toward the floor into a thin pile. The weird looks deepened.

“And you know this how?” Arthur asked, the classic look of doubtful confusion almost making Merlin smile. Holding back this urge, Merlin opened his mouth to respond when Morgana interrupted. She seemed to have a habit of this.

“Never mind that now, we can talk about black powder later. Where did she go? How did she know Arthur was here? Is she dead?” Morgan asked, gesturing toward the door and the empty hallway beyond. They hadn’t gathered attention of any of the other tenants, and the only sound besides their chatter was the rain beating against the window and the roof.

Everyone turned toward the doorway and seemed to agree that the powder and Merlin’s knowledge of it was unimportant.

“She must have fled.” Merlin offered, hoping they agreed with him. There was still a bit of silence before someone spoke up again.

“What if she wasn’t here for Arthur?” Gwen suggested, turning to look at the group. The rest of them turned as well, Arthur and Morgan giving Gwen confused looks. As far as they were aware, someone had attempted to kill the crown Prince of England. Merlin felt his blood begin to run cold. They were getting to this faster than he had hoped.

“Why wouldn’t she be here for Arthur?” Morgana asked, curious what Gwen thought. Her tone wasn’t challenging, like it had been toward Arthur. She was genuinely curious to know what Gwen thought. Merlin watched her carefully, but decided that Nimueh was a bigger problem than Morgana.

“Well, if she meant to kill Arthur, wouldn’t she have made sure he was here, first? She didn’t even hesitate to cast that spell when Merlin opened the door. And…and she said a name. Em…Emery? Emries? Emrys?” Gwen wracked her brain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she thought. Merlin was amazed she remembered something like that small detail. She must have been standing closest to Merlin when he had opened the door.

“Emrys? Do you know an ‘Emrys’, Merlin?” Arthur asked, turning toward the tall warlock, arms crossed defensively. He didn’t believe Gwen, the evidence was in his doubting blue eyes and the way he held himself. Merlin shuffled his feet awkwardly, looking at the ground a moment before looking back up again, all eyes on him.

“It’s my….Surname.” He responded, finding a lie quickly. Why was he lying to them? He had sworn to be one hundred percent honest when he found them again. He would tell them everything, that he had magic, that he was immortal. Yet, here he was, telling them that Emrys was not the ancient name used in prophecy since the beginning of time, but actually his surname.

“I’ve never heard that one before.” Morgan mused absently, eyes not leaving Merlin’s face as she said it. Gwen looked shocked, her eyes having gone wide and her mouth hanging open just a bit. Arthur, on the other hand, hadn’t changed his posture or expression and continued to look doubtful.

“You’re saying she was here for Merlin?” Arthur asked, turning his head toward Gwen as he said this. This snapped everyone out of their shock and Gwen nodded.

“She said his name, she must have been here for him.” Gwen responded, looking quickly toward Arthur before turning back to Merlin, her shock now turned to concern. With Arthur, it made sense if an assassin was after him, but Merlin? All three of them thought he was simply some random guy who had just moved to London. Why would this witch be after him?

“Why would she be after Merlin?” Arthur asked and, again, everyone silently waited for Merlin to speak. He was getting very tired of this, but he knew he would have to tell them at some point. They needed to know the truth this time around. If he kept the secret from them, he wasn’t sure he would be able to go through everything a second time. It had been hard enough when Arthur had hated him for it the first time and then died right after accepting him.

“Well, I-“ But he was cut off when a loud ringing sound echoed through the room. Arthur nearly jumped a foot in the air, Gwen actually did, and Morgana whipped her head around to watch Arthur pull something from his pocket. It was his mobile and it was ringing at full volume.

“It’s father.” Arthur muttered toward Morgana, sliding a finger across the screen and answering the call. Merlin watched as Arthur left the room to take the call in private, disappearing into the dark hallway. For a moment the three of them stood in silence, the sound of rain coming from the outside world, suddenly so much more prevalent.

“So, er, what now?” Gwen asked, shifting her weight from side to side, clearly a bit uncomfortable with the situation. It hadn’t even been a day since Merlin arrived in London, the new Camelot, and he was already being attacked.

“We don’t need Arthur to know why this witch was after Merlin.” Morgana said, taking a step toward Merlin as she said this. Merlin felt wary of her look and the way she spoke. He didn’t trust her, not after what had happened the first time, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do about it.

“Well, eh, the thing-“ Merlin was cut off by a piercing headache which caused him to double over from the sheer pain. Groaning he felt his magic well up inside of him, a second immune system to ward off magical ailments that was far more powerful than his physical immune system. Gwen and Morgana worried over him, but he couldn’t hear them.

Bending over, he crouched onto the ground and squeezed his eyes shut, focusing his attention on the pain and its source. It was the black powder, he realised after analyzing the symptoms. He knew it immediately and recognised what it was. It shouldn’t have retained its effect after being burned so badly, but it must have been because he inhaled it.

Taking a shaky deep breath, Merlin muttered a spell under his breath, warding off the powerful magic inside of him. After several chants of the spell, he felt the pain subside and his eyes opened, blackness disappearing from his vision as he did so.

Slowly he pushed himself back up, body shaking and weak. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t use to all the power he held. He hadn’t needed to cast something so powerful in ages, his body was not used to it.

“Merlin? Are you okay? What happened?” Gwen asked, pressing a hand against his upper arm as if to hold him steady. He was thankful for her support, his legs were trying to buckle under him, but he needed to remain upright.

“I’m f-fine.” He muttered, blinking a bit to get rid of the black dots that had started dancing across his vision. “It must have been because I inhaled the black powder.” He tagged on, looking toward the door where the black dust still covered its corners and edges. He took a shaky step toward it when the sound of a thud came from the hallway.

“Arthur!” Morgana gasped, racing out into the hallway ahead of Gwen and Merlin, who took longer to get out of the flat. Morgana was kneeling on the floor beside Arthur, his head placed on her lap as she looked into his face as if looking for a sign of life.

“What’s happened to him?” Gwen asked, shooting forward to try and catch Merlin as he joined Morgan on the floor. She stopped when she realised what he was doing and crouched beside Arthur across from Merlin and Morgana.

Leaning forward, Merlin placed two fingers against Arthur’s neck on his pulse point, feeling the very slow, steady heartbeat that still existed. As he waited to see if there would be any change, it accelerated rapidly, holding a frighteningly rapid pace until it slowed again to the inhumanly slow pulse from moments ago.

“He’s still alive, but his heart rate is irregular.” Merlin muttered, pressing a hand against Arthur’s chest to feel the rise and fall of his breaths, as uneven as his heartbeat. His body shuddered and twitched as Merlin looked him over, noting the pale complexion of his face.

“Merlin, what is it?” Gwen asked, noticing the concerned expression on Merlin’s face before Morgana did. Merlin looked up and then glanced between them.

“I think it’s the black powder. It must spread simply through touch.” Merlin explained, waving a hand over Arthur’s body and feeling the magic pulse through him. It was powerful, but not as powerful as the stuff Merlin had just fought off inside himself. However, due to Arthur’s lack of magic, it would be more difficult to cure. He’d need more supplies.

“Hello?!” A distant voice echoed loudly in the hallway, making most of them jump. Morgana and Merlin turned to find Arthur’s phone several feet away, still alight. The call with Uther hadn’t been ended.

Morgan shot out a hand and grabbed it, pressing it to her ear.

“Uther!...Yes, it’s me….Well, he kind of just collapsed….We were attacked….Uther, stop talking so quickly, she didn’t harm us….Okay, she managed to hurt Arthur, but I’m not sure how….He’s passed out, but Merlin says he’s still alive….Right, Merlin, we just met him…..I was helping him take his groceries home….Uther, I don’t think this is as important as getting Arthur help….Gwen’s flat, top floor….Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit.” Morgana pulled the phone away from her ear as the call finished and she looked up, tears in the corner of her eyes.

“Uther’s on his way with help. They’re going to bring Arthur to the hospital.” She explained, giving a weak smile as she said this. Merlin shook his head, looking back toward Arthur’s pale face, body still shuddering occasionally.

“Mortal medicine can’t heal this.” Merlin muttered, watching as Arthur’s face slowly turned paler and ashier, becoming a sickly grey color as he watched. Morgan’s expression became confused as she stroked Arthur’s cheek.

“What do you mean, Merlin? How do you know?” Morgana asked, looking up at him with a challenge in her gaze. She was putting trust in mortal medicine to treat Arthur. Merlin understood that look, she wanted to believe this was something that could be solved easily because she cared for Arthur. She didn’t know Merlin could heal him himself, otherwise she wouldn’t be giving him that look.

“I was trained by the best.” Merlin responded, pressing a hand to Arthur’s chest again to feel the uneven breaths and shuddering. Watching his face, carefully, Merlin noticed his eyes moving rapidly beneath his lids. The poison was strong and taking over more than just his body, but his brain as well. If he waited too long, Arthur would likely remain in a vegetative state.

“You studied medicine?” Gwen asked, curious. Merlin looked up, surprised by that question. He hadn’t actually attended a university as a fully enrolled student, but he went to lectures until the moment the professor realised he wasn’t in their class. There were few of those instances, he almost always managed to get through the class without them noticing. With a little fancy magic he had made up himself, he could alter the computer records and put himself on the list so they didn’t notice he was missing when they input the grades.

The professors who noticed he wasn’t in their class were the ones who noticed that there was one extra student and had gone through the difficult process of figuring out which student wasn’t enrolled in the university. Merlin was thorough, but not that thorough.

“Er, yeah. Graduated a few years ago.” Merlin responded warily, trying to brush off the conversation by watching Arthur carefully. This didn’t work because both Morgana and Gwen were watching him carefully.

“How do you know mortal medicine can’t heal this, then?” Morgan asked, her voice defensive. She wanted to know Arthur would be fine, that he wasn’t going to die. Merlin had just gotten his friends back, there was no way he was going to let any of them die. Not yet, at least. He was going to do his best to keep them all alive.

“Um, well, I-“ Merlin was cut off when the sounds of loud footsteps came up the stairs. All three of them turned to see who it was as they turned up the staircase and came into view. It was Ellen, the building supervisor, and she looked frightened and worried.

“Did something happen? I heard a loud bang.” She fretted, approaching them quickly, stopping and taking a step back when she saw Arthur. A hand clapped over her mouth and she gasped, instantly worried.

“Yeah, but it’s not something to worry about. The door, eh, just blew off. From….From the storm.” Merlin responded, standing and placing his hands on her shoulders. Ignoring him, she pushed passed him and leaned in closer to Arthur, gasping again.

“Is that the prince!?” She exclaimed, turning swiftly on Merlin, who held up his hands in sheepish surrender as if she might attack him at any minute. He was about to respond when she ran her fingers through short blonde hair.

“You just moved in and you’re already causing trouble! You look like a decent fellow, Colin, but I can’t have you messing up the building like this!” Ellen exclaimed, waving her hands like mad before gesturing to Arthur on the ground, still shaking and breathing unevenly. “And you hurt the prince! I don’t know how you managed that, or why he’s even here, but I don’t know if you can live here if you’re going to cause this much trouble!” Merlin flinched as she said this.

Getting kicked out of his flat really wasn’t a problem, he had enough to buy or rent another place if he was able to find one, but it was the fact that she was freaking out so much that was throwing him off. People panicked in Camelot all the time, but it was almost as if Uther was standing before him without his anger control.

“Excuse me? Yes, hi, I’m Morgana Pendragon. Arthur was only here trying to look out for me. I’m sorry we’ve cause you problems, but Merlin’s not a trouble maker, really.” Morgan stood, gently laying Arthur’s head on the ground and leaving him with Gwen. She stepped in front of Ellen and beside Merlin, trying to soothe the situation.

She had somehow made it worse.

“Merlin? Your contract said your name was Colin! All the previous building supervisors called you ‘Colin the Ghost’!” Ellen exclaimed, making Morgana shoot him a wary look as well. If he was lying at all, both of them would be at his throat and he wasn’t sure he wanted to unleash the wrath of two angry ladies, even if one of them was simply a mortal building supervisor.

“I-it’s my first name! Merlin is! I don’t give it to most people because I always get weird looks s-so I signed the contract using my middle name.” Merlin explained hastily, not lowering his hands from where they were in the air. It was quite silly that they were having this conversation now, with Arthur still squirming on the ground. But it was a nice way to pass the time until Uther arrived.

“Merlin Colin Emrys? I do believe that is the strangest name I have ever heard.” Morgana pointed out, lifting an eyebrow but shooting Merlin a teasing look. Merlin managed a nervous laugh as Ellen ran her fingers through her hair again, worrying it until it was slicked back against her scalp, revealing beautiful blue eyes and…freckles.

“Okay, fine. But what happened here? The door blew off? How could the door have been blown off?” Ellen asked, gesturing toward the doorway without the door. Logically, Merlin realised, lightning would have blown it into the hallway, despite which way it swung. But there was no door in the hallway.

“Well, we were attacked by some crazy lady-” Morgana started, the story ending there when the sounds of voices carried from the ground floor up the stairwell. The commanding voice of Uther was the first Merlin heard and he almost felt his blood run cold. There was no way he could say anything about his magic when Uther was around. Even if his friends spared him, there was no way Uther would.

Pounding footsteps began up the stairs and Merlin watched in awe and fear as the face of Uther Pendragon came into view. It was the same man from Camelot’s early years, just like how his friends were the same ones. His stern expression turned to one of concern when his eyes caught Arthur on the ground.

“Arthur! What happened?” Uther exclaimed, demanding an answer immediately. Ellen, wide eyed and pale faced, backed out of the way and into a corner, making way for the king. Morgan was the one who answered as Gwen followed Ellen’s example and Merlin remained frozen where he was.

“We were attacked, Uther. This woman came to Merlin’s door and blasted us with a spell. I don’t remember much, but we were blown backward and the door was flung off its hinges. There was black powder all over the door but we thought it was just ash. Merlin says that’s what caused this.” Morgana explained as the men following Uther filed onto the, now, very crowded landing with a stretcher.

“Morgan, that’s impossible, magic doesn’t exist.” Uther responded, glancing back at Merlin with disdain. Force of habit broke in and Merlin ducked his head so he wasn’t making eye contact with the king. Despite how long had it been since he had been in Uther’s presence, he still automatically reacted that way.

“Uther, I know what I saw! And what I felt. Merlin opened the door, the woman said his name, and then there was an explosion. It knocked us off our feet but didn’t hurt us.” Morgana protested, grabbing Uther’s shoulder in attempts to direct his attention towards her again. Uther’s attention was too attached to Arthur, though, as the men set down the stretcher and checked for Arthur’s pulse. They made a confused face and pulled their hands back.

“Enough, Morgana. Magic doesn’t exist.” Uther brushed her off and knelt down beside Arthur. “What is it?” He asked, looking intently at the men, who shook their heads, one continuing to check Arthur for more injuries as the other responded.

“I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t recognise the symptoms, he has no other injuries.” The man said, looking over at his buddy, who nodded his head in agreement. Merlin felt a dull thud of satisfaction about being right, something that long ago would have made him proud to know. Only, it had been centuries since he had surpassed even modern medical science. Plus, it was Arthur laying there, he could not be pleased with himself when Arthur was dying.

“See, Uther. This isn’t a normal illness.” Morgana seemed to be just a bit hesitant in saying this. Merlin knew it was hard for her to admit that this was magical, since that meant there was no way it could be cured with mortal medicine. Merlin looked up hesitantly, watching as the men lifted Arthur onto the stretcher and Uther stood, turning toward Morgana.

“What makes you think this isn’t something they just haven’t seen before?” Uther challenged, the anger about Arthur’s illness being taken out on Morgana. Luckily, Morgan was the best person to withstand Uther’s anger.

“Merlin said it was magic.” She told him, staring him down with that determined look that had gotten her into so much trouble over a millennium ago.

Merlin flinched and ducked his head when Uther turned on him. Morgana may have been capable of dealing with Uther’s anger, but Merlin wasn’t. Not unless he was protected by the guise of his aging spell. Talking back to Uther as himself was sure to get him killed. Hiding as the old man wasn’t wise.

“And what does this Merlin know about magic?” Uther hissed, approaching Merlin slowly as the men carried Arthur down the stairs. Merlin didn’t look up, afraid that it might earn him something painful by making eye contact with the king.

“N-nothing, sire.” Merlin muttered, shifting his weight nervously as Uther got closer. He stood nearly nose to nose with Merlin, something that he had never done when he was alive in Camelot’s day. Merlin wished his meeting of the court of Camelot had happened in the same manner as it had the first time. Being beaten by Arthur and pelted with rotten fruits and vegetables was ideal compared to this.

“Merlin, you said yourself that this wasn’t something mortal medicine could heal. You touched the powder and said it was meant to kill.” Morgana protested, looking between Uther and Merlin. Uther’s eyes flared and he grabbed Merlin by the shoulder, violently yanking him around and restraining his hands.

“Uther!” Morgana exclaimed as Uther roughly handled Merlin’s arms, pain shooting through the warlock’s shoulders. Uther jerked his own shoulder, shaking Morgana off of him.

“He touched the powder, Morgana, and yet he’s still functioning. He must be working with this witch you mentioned.” Uther growled, roughly handling Merlin and pushing him toward the stairs, directing Merlin ahead of him.

“But the witch was here for Merlin!” This was Gwen, who took a step forward, shouting desperately at Uther’s back before freezing when she realised what she was doing. “Sire.” She tagged on, ducking her head so she was looking at the ground again. Uther turned slowly and looked at Gwen, one hand still on Merlin’s arms. Then he looked at Morgana, giving her a look that asked her to explain.

“When Merlin answered the door, she said his name. And then she cast her spell.” Morgana explained, Gwen nodding in the back eagerly, both of them hoping this would help. Uther scanned the group and then turned toward Merlin’s back.

“You know this witch?” Uther hissed, tugging hard at Merlin’s arms so he was closer. Merlin hesitated because, yes, he knew Nimueh, but, not only was she a different Nimueh, Uther would have him killed for so much as knowing her name.

“She looked like an old…acquaintance.” Merlin muttered honestly, hoping this would allow him relief from the pain in his wrists and shoulders. Uther didn’t let go.

“Do you know her name?” Uther asked, tightening his grip a bit and making Merlin hiss at the pain. No one moved, no one made a noise. Merlin was partially aware of Ellen watching all of this with horror in her eyes.

“Nimueh.” Merlin whispered, hoping no one heard him besides Uther. He knew the impact that name would have had on the Uther Pendragon he used to know, but there was no telling if this Uther had used sorcery in Arthur’s birth as well. The way Uther relaxed his grip and gasped answered this question instantly. Still, he retightened his grip, making Merlin grunt from the pain.

“You’re still coming with me. You were able to survive this witch’s poison and that means magic is involved.” Uther growled, pushing Merlin towards the stairs again. Morgana instantly jumped to Merlin’s defence and Gwen watched with fear in her eyes. Ellen continued to observe, horror still written on her expression. Merlin twisted his head around to look at her.

“I’ll clean up the door when I get back! Don’t touch the black powder!” He called back to her, hoping she would do as he said. If she didn’t, then there were going to be more problems. Uther shoved him down the stairs, stumbling and cursing under his breath. This was not going to be any fun.

\----

Merlin woke up with a headache.

It wasn’t nearly the same skull splitting painful kind that had struck him after touching the aftermath of Nimueh’s spell, but it was enough to make him flinch the instant he opened his eyes.

After the events of the previous night, Merlin had cursed himself for coming back to London. As much as he was overjoyed with having everyone back, he was infuriated that they were not the same friends from the days of old. If he had encountered those Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana, things would have gone differently.

Gwen and Arthur would have teamed up with him to fight against Morgana and then they would have reestablished the Camelot that had come about the day Arthur died. Then they would live in the peaceful Camelot Arthur had strived so hard to build.

But no.

Arthur was the same arrogant prat Merlin had met during his first day in Camelot, Gwen was as strong as she had been when he had first met her, and Morgana was still kindly and loving. And Uther was still alive.

Merlin muttered angrily under his breath, the first several words a spell to reduce the headache, the next several choice words that described how much he despised this new Camelot. It was the same as the one he had found when he was a boy.

It was a mess.

Sitting up on the uncomfortable bed of the holding cell Uther had tossed him into the previous night, he looked around in the early morning light and officially took in his surroundings. It wasn’t as bad as the dungeons at Camelot, but it wasn’t anything like his flat that had been left the previous night. Hopefully Ellen knew how to handle the whole situation and didn’t touch anything. He would get out of here, he always did.

Of course, he would have to take into account the differences between these cells and the ones in Camelot. Luckily, the blankets and pillows in this cell were a bit nicer and Merlin was able to bury the pillows under the two blankets, making it look like he was under them. Whispering a small spell under his breath, the pillows began to rise and fall softly. Hopefully this would hold them off.

As long as Uther didn’t come looking for him to question him, then he had enough time to go heal Arthur and get back. He knew exactly what he would need to heal Arthur, but he didn’t know where Arthur would be. Or where he was. Despite having been to London so many times, Merlin hadn’t learned where the various prisons were. It had never concerned him.

The sound of footsteps began to echo down the long hallway outside his cell. Quietly, Merlin whispered a spell and he slowly faded from sight. This spell he had invented himself, many of his spells were that way. Invisibility had been extremely useful, but he couldn’t use it for too long or he started to actually disappear. He had yet to figure out a solution to this problem. All he knew was that it had taken him a week to get his left hand back the first time he had used the spell.

As soon as Merlin disappeared, a guard showed up at the bears and peered in. He noticed Merlin’s fake, asleep under the blankets, and scanned the rest of the cell. His brow was creased in confusion and his lips pursed tightly.

“I could have sworn I saw him awake a few seconds ago.” He man muttered, looking around to the other cells with men calling out to the guard or just ignoring him. Merlin cursed silently. Stupid technology, he thought, recalling that modern prisons had cameras to keep track of the prisoners. He should have moved to disappear faster.

He was just lucky the guard must have been looking away when he cast the spell on the pile of stuff on the bed. If the man had spotted that, there would be no hesitation to call Uther and tell him that he had witnessed Merlin casting a spell. Breathing carefully, Merlin awaited the retreat of the guard, watching as the man in the cell across from his waving his hand through the bars, calling toward the guard.

Merlin recognised the African language from his travels across the continent. It wasn’t a very common one and it was unlikely the guard, or even Uther, spoke it. Merlin wondered what the man had done to land himself in a British prison, but froze when he realised he recognised a few of the words he was saying.

It was choppy but Merlin could tell he was describing how Merlin had disappeared. The man was trying to tell the guard that Merlin had magic, but it seemed he didn’t have a word for magic because he kept trying to explain how it had happened. As soon as he was sure the guard had disappeared, Merlin muttered the counter spell and reappeared, causing extreme hysteria in the man across from him.

Swiftly, the ancient warlock muttered a powerful spell, deactivating the alarms before slipping from his cell, closing the door, and then reactivating the alarms. The man went silent as he watched his, shock written across his face. Merlin didn’t have long before the guard would reach the guard station with all the monitors, so he needed to resume invisibility and get out of there, but he approached the man’s cell quickly and whispered, as best as he could recall, words to calm the man.

“Wait. I can help.” And with that, he vanished once more and raced down the hallway. He would be back later, hopefully before Uther wanted to see him, and then he could help the man. Merlin bet the only reason he was still here was because no one understood his language. They probably had no idea what country he was from and, no matter what they said to him, they couldn’t decipher what he was saying.

As curious as Merlin was about how this man ended up here, he was going to have to find Gaius and get the supplies before Arthur died. Slipping passed the guard station, Merlin disappeared out the doors and stepped into the rainy midmorning. Allowing the spell to fade, he whispered another, much weaker spell that he could hold for days at a time.

He would need to find new clothes, the prison uniform was going to make him stick out like a sore thumb, even with his old man disguise. Whispering a quick spell, he watched as the prison uniform transformed into what looked like a well used tracksuit. Grunting with distaste, he shook his head and then closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he felt the core of his magic centered within his heart and began to spread it out, watching as it coursed in many different directions around the streets, subtle and hidden from view. Spreading the bubble out, he encompassed the entire city of London in seconds, taking note of his location. His flat was too far to reach in the amount of time he had, he was going to need another option.

Luckily, there was someone else closer who would likely be willing to help.

Opening his eyes, Merlin cut off the spell and began shuffling along the pavement, checking his path every once in a while to make sure he was going the right way. He approached the street from the opposite direction he was used to, but it was as familiar backward as it was forward. Glancing around warily, he noted how empty it was in the middle of the day. It was the time of day when most people were at work, but it was still eerie how quiet it was.

Pushing through this wariness, Merlin ventured further down the street until he found the shop he was looking for. Without hesitation, he entered the small room beyond the door, a small bell tinkling above his head. Was that new? He hadn’t noticed it when he was here the other day. Brushing this off, he looked around the familiar surroundings and smiled when Gaius appeared from the back room.

“Hello. How may I help you?” Gaius asked, a polite smile on his face. The way his eyebrows dipped slightly made Merlin wonder if Gaius’ shop was frequented by only a few people and never anyone new.

“Gaius, it’s me, Merlin.” Merlin responded, hoping Gaius would trust him on this. The older man was definitely narrowing his eyes now, looking Merlin up and down. Doubt mixed with confusion for a few minutes before his eyes widened and his mouth formed a small o.

“Ah, this is the old man that’s in the legends, then?” Gaius asked, gesturing for Merlin to follow him into the backroom. Snorting, Merlin nodded his head before remembering Gaius couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, well, this appearance is useful enough to get around when I can’t have anybody seeing me.” Merlin responded, glad when they reached the backroom and Gaius shut the door. Letting out a deep breath, Merlin released both spells he was holding onto and resumed his ragged appearance from earlier that morning.

“Good God, boy! What did you do!?” Gaius exclaimed, looking Merlin up and down and taking in everything all at once. Merlin felt his face begin to flush as he looked down at the prison jumper he had been hiding under the guise of a tracksuit. Laughing sheepishly, he rubbed the nape of his neck roughly and looked back up at Gaius, shrugging.

“Did no one tell you?” He asked, feeling rather stupid asking this particular question while looking at Gaius’ expression. It was quite clear no one had told Gaius about his being thrown in prison by Uther, as the man seemed struck dumb.

“No! You’ve not been here a day, lad, how on Earth did you manage this?” Gaius asked, hurrying forward and tugging at Merlin’s clothes as if touching them would magically change them back into the ugly tracksuit.

“Well, it’s, uh, it’s a long story.” Merlin muttered, really hoping Gaius wouldn’t ask more questions. He should have known better, this was Gaius he was talking about. Considering he was just like the old one, he was bound to ask more questions.

“Wait, did you break out of prison!?” Gaius asked, looking almost as if he might pass out from the shock. Now rather worried, Merlin grabbed the old man by his shoulders and led him gently toward one of the big chairs in the room. Letting him down slowly, he sat down in the other chair across from Gaius.

“Look, I swear I’ll tell you what happened, or you can ask Morgana, but right now, Arthur’s dying and I need your help.” Merlin insisted, leaning forward in the chair, looking at Gaius earnestly and hoping that he trusted him. The man nodded, it was slow and hesitant, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Right, of course. You’re the thousand year-old wizard, I’ll trust you. What do you need?” Gaius asked, sitting up a bit straighter, nodding his head a bit faster as he slowly collected himself. Merlin grinned, pleased that Gaius was so willing to help. Gaius had always been willing to help, he reminded himself, he was just not as used to this as he would have been a millennium ago.

“Henbane.” Merlin responded curtly, readying to go back into the shop when he froze and remembered what he was wearing. “Um, and some new clothing.” He added on, turning back to Gaius who was giving him that big eyed, shocked expression again.

“What on Earth do you need henbane for?!” Gaius exclaimed, rising to his feet slowly. Merlin slumped his shoulders and rolled his eyes, landing them back on Gaius when he was finished, exasperation coating his features.

“Gaius!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands out to his sides to further prove the need for haste. Gaius jumped and then nodded, bustling toward the stairs in the corner of the room, hurrying up them.

“Right, right. No questions. Hold on one second, I’ll grab you something to wear.” Gaius called down, disappearing through the door at the top of the stairs. Merlin watched the door for a second before he began to pace, hoping that he wasn’t going to be too late to save Arthur. He knew what spell to cast and what the henbane was for, but he was afraid that Uther might realise he was gone before he managed to save Arthur.

It wasn’t like Uther would recognise him as an old man, but it was going to be harder to sneak around St. Mary’s if the place was crawling with guards. Uther probably thought Merlin had tried to kill Arthur and that the stories of Gwen and Morgana were just mixed around a bit.

The sound of a door opening came from above him, halting his pacing momentarily to watch as Gaius reappeared at the top of the stairs, holding a bundle of cloth.

“Right, these should fit. I’ll grab the henbane while you change, don’t want you to see where I stash it.” Gaius told him, shuffling down the stairs at a pace that had Merlin hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. He eagerly snatched the clothing from Gaius as soon as he was handed it, stripping the jumper the instant he had the clothing.

Gaius tutted a bit, but otherwise ignored Merlin as he pulled the jumper off his arms and allowed it to pool at his feet. Shivering a bit at the cold of the shop biting his skin, Merlin hurriedly pulled the shirt over his head and the trousers around his waist, thanking Gaius silently for grabbing a belt. The trousers were far too wide on him and would still be too wide on him as an old man. Luckily, the jumper he pulled over his head was a little baggy around his waist and draped low, covering the belt to hide the obvious tight pull of the accessory.

As he pulled on the beanie Gaius had brought down – a nice effect, he thought – Gaius reappeared from the shop holding a small manila package wrapped in twine. As Merlin fitted the beanie onto his head, down over his ears all comfortable like, Gaius approached him with the package.

“I hope this is enough.” Gaius said, holding the package out for Merlin as he said this. Merlin reached out to grab it, freezing when Gaius pulled it back suddenly. “Do be careful, lad? I don’t want to see anybody hurt.” Gaius added, the concern clear in his tone. Merlin smiled, a sloppy, lopsided grin that, he realised, he hadn’t given for centuries. Gaius was just as concerned now as he had been back then.

“Of course, Gaius, you know me.” Merlin joked, laughing lightly as he took the parcel from Gaius and tucked it into a pocket. Gaius gave him a look and Merlin grinned broader, knowing exactly what he was going to say next and almost giddy as a child waiting for him to say it.

“Unfortunately, Merlin, I do not.” Gaius said, taking Merlin entirely by surprise. The smile dropped from his face, but he recovered it quickly and shrugged sheepishly.

“Right, forgot. Well, I’ll be back later. Hide the jumper for me, yeah?” Merlin said, not even having to say the spell to turn himself into the old man he had used many times in Camelot’s golden days. With this change, he turned swiftly from the back of the shop and ducking into the main room. He heard Gaius stutter in protest, but ignored him as he scurried from the shop as quickly as his ancient legs would take him.

Stepping into the crisp air, Merlin took a deep breath and stretched the core of his magic from his heart outward. It slithered from his fingers and dropped to the ground and into the air. It searched through the street and the buildings, across entire blocks of London until it had encompassed the entire city. Taking another deep breath, Merlin searched this scope, finding each hospital until there was one with a room guarded heavily.

Letting the breath out, Merlin immediately wished he wasn’t standing on street and had stayed in Gaius’ shop. He was too busy trying to come up with a general plan to save the prince that the idea of how he was going to get to Arthur hadn’t crossed his mind.

Now he was standing in the middle of the pavement. It wasn’t busy, not in the least, but it did contain several people, especially groups of tourists. There was no way he could teleport standing here. With a sigh, he turned back into Gaius’ shop.

“Well, that was fast.” Gaius commented, holding the jumper in his hand as he walked from the backroom at the sound of the bell. Merlin gave him a look before taking a deep breath and disappearing from view entirely. It made no sound and had no feeling. As soon as Merlin opened his eyes, he was no longer in Gaius’ shop.

Instead, he was standing in the middle of a very dark cupboard. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the low light and he realised he was surrounded by mops and brooms and various other cleaning implements.

“This is why I don’t teleport to unknown locations.” Merlin muttered, wishing he had taken more time to look for an empty, well lit room to exit. It wouldn’t look nearly as weird coming from a room. But a caretaker's cupboard? Ridiculous.

Shaking this off and reminding himself that time was of the essence, Merlin pushed the door open slowly, glancing out both ways to see if there was anyone in the hallway. Lucky for him, it was empty, the sound of a door shutting at the end of the corridor the only sign of life. Slipping out as agilely as he could manage, Merlin searched with his magic for the room where the prince was staying, pleased to find that he had managed to land on the other side of the building from Arthur. He slid around the corner and found this hallway more crowded than the last. Pushing pass people and dodging harried bodies, he turned the next corner to find it nearly packed with guards and medical personnel.

There was no way he was going to make it into the room through the doctors, nurses, and guards, and the paparazzi was so thick he could barely even see the door. Even the medical personnel were having a hard time getting through.

Turning away from the corner, Merlin closed his eyes and thought of something. There had to be something he could do to get them away. For a moment, Merlin stood there, alone and silent, thinking with his eyes closed. When they snapped open, they were glowing gold and there was some crashing noises coming from the other end of the hallway filled with paparazzi.

There were loud noises that generally accompanied mobs of large people, especially when they held cameras or weaponry, and soon enough the entire hall had quieted. Merlin turned to look around the corner again, cursing when he noticed that the medical personnel hadn’t even flinched at the sound and that there was still a guard left at the door.

Sighing, he realised he was going to have to do this quickly and invisibly. Muttering the spell under his breath, he felt himself vanish from thin air before turning the corner and slipping passed the guard and into the room. Merlin had to stop himself from pausing right then and there and shouting at the man, recognising Leon without a doubt. There were more important matters at hand, however, as he dodged passed a doctor holding a clipboard.

A nurse was checking Arthur’s vitals and pressing a few buttons on the machines beside him. The prince was still breathing, but shallowly and sporadically. His face was now paper white, his hair starting to turn a similar color, pale white at the roots, fading into the usual gold blonde near the tips. Freezing at the sight of the prince, Merlin took a shaky breath. It had been hard seeing Arthur dying all those times it had happened centuries ago, but now? Now he was seeing his best friend, only hours earlier back alive and healthy – despite being a massive pillock – now lying still on a hospital bed, barely breathing.

Stealing himself, Merlin stepped forward and pulled the henbane package from his pocket, untying the string and slipping the plant from its wrappings. Carefully, he held it over Arthur and began to chant the spell as softly as he could manage while still giving it power. The doctor cleared from the room, apparently done with his work, while the nurse took a step back from the machine and looked down at the prince, sadness in her eyes.

Ignoring everything around him, Merlin felt the power of his magic at the core of his heart, the very essence of his being, and willed it to flow from inside of him. He began to shake as the powerful spell he was casting fought with his physical strength. It was hard enough holding the invisibility spell, trying to heal Arthur at the same time was taxing on his body.

Merlin continued to chant the spell, however, as low and under his breath as he could manage, watching Arthur’s face and hoping to everything he knew that this would work like he had hoped. He may have been the smartest man alive, but even he didn’t know literally everything. He had seen the powder before and the effects it could have, had healed it from someone’s body, but this was different. It had been Nimueh who had cast the spell. She had been intending to kill Merlin and, based on the fact that she knew the name Emrys, she had weaved it to be far more powerful than usual.

This spell had extremely powerful magic imbued into it, but Merlin was the most powerful being to ever live, this had to work for him.

The longer he held the spell, the less strength he felt in his body. Holding his voice steady, he willed the invisibility spell to hold up. The heart monitor on the other side of the room began to beat regularly, the gentle, even sounds fueling the relief that flooded through Merlin’s body. The nurse gasped, turning to the machines and looking them over as all of Arthur’s vitals began to even out.

Grinning to himself, Merlin willed his body to manage one more go through of the spell to make sure Arthur would be safe. His luck held out, and the invisibility spell began to flicker, revealing himself to the nurse who looked in his direction when she realised he was there, then back at the machines, before doing a double take and shouting something.

Merlin didn’t even have time to think before Leon came bursting into the room, followed by the other guard, who must have deemed the noise Merlin had made unimportant, and the entire throng of camera wielding paparazzi. With a quick snap of his magic, Merlin pulled himself from the room and fell backward into the chair in Gaius’ back room.

Gaius jumped out of his own chair and shot nearly to the ceiling in his shock. Merlin felt his blood pumping and brow sweating as he released the aging spell and returned to normal. His face was pale and his skin sticky with perspiration, but he was grinning like a maniac idiot.

“Did it work?” Gaius asked, resting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and leaning in. Merlin lifted his eyebrows at the man, but nodded. Gaius let out a relieved sigh as Merlin shot shakily to his feet, having to grip Gaius’ shoulder to keep from falling over again.

“You need to rest, you look horrible.” Gaius insisted, trying to push Merlin back into the chair. Using his remaining strength, Merlin resisted Gaius’ push and shook his head.

“No, I have to get back before Uther realises I’m missing.” Merlin muttered, his speech slurred slightly as if he had had a few too many. Gaius gave him a concerned but Merlin shot a different look back that had Gaius sighing and turning around to a cupboard in the back of the room.

“Prison is no place for someone in your condition.” Gaius muttered grumpily, handing Merlin the jumper before sitting back down. Merlin managed a tired chuckle as he pulled the beanie off his head and began to strip the clothing off his body. He basically had to peel it off, the sweat soaking his body seeping into it.

Once he had finished changing, he handed Gaius the clothes hesitantly. The old man took the clothing warily, making a face at the condition of the garments.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Merlin drawled, handing Gaius something else as he said this. “Can you burn this? It’s imbued with extremely powerful magic that could kill anyone that touches it directly.” Merlin explained as Gaius took the undone wrappings that the henbane had been in. “Instantly and painfully.” Merlin added, making sure Gaius wouldn’t touch it himself.

“Of cour-“ Gaius was cut off as Merlin stole himself for another teleportation spell, black dots dancing before his eyes as he stumbled against the fence to the prison. Taking what little strength he had left, he disappeared and hurried inside, nearly fainting when he unlocked his cell and re-entered it, undoing the spell on his blankets and falling onto the bed himself, completely losing consciousness as soon as his head hit the hard pillow.

\----

Merlin was released two days later, having been pardoned – from what, he had no idea – by Uther when Arthur insisted he had done nothing wrong. The king clearly didn’t trust him, but he was willing to let Merlin go at the behest of his son. Merlin made a mental note to do something to earn Uther’s respect, because he was going to need it if he wanted to survive for very long.

The man in the cell across from him got what he had been promised. Merlin listened to him, finding it easy to pick up what he meant once he whispered a small spell to translate for him. He knew many of the words the man spoke, but the important ones escaped him.

Apparently, he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time with no way to defend himself from the officers who had arrested him. One of the detectives had given him time so that they could find someone that spoke his language, but as his sentence drew shorter and his trial approached, this seemed less and less likely to happen.

He was ecstatic when Merlin had reappeared and spoken to him.

The man was released shortly after Merlin and paid him a visit just to thank him. As he was leaving, Gwen showed up across the hall, turning away from her own door to watch the man leave before giving Merlin a big grin.

“How do you know to speak his language?” She asked, stepping closer and tilting her head sideways to show her curiosity. Merlin knew this was coming, telling her he was over one thousand years old. There would be no lies this time around, to avoid what had happened the last time.

“Well, uh, I’ve visited his country before and picked up a bit of the language.” Merlin responded, looking down at the ground sheepishly before looking back up at her. Gwen made a shocked face and lifted an eyebrow.

“You’ve visited his country? Merlin, you told us the other day that you graduated from medical school only a few years ago. You seem wise beyond your years whenever you open your mouth, but there’s no way you could know so much at your age.” Gwen pointed out, letting out an incredulous laugh as she did so. Merlin echoed her laugh, though more out of nerves than anything else.

“Yeah, well, that’s because-“ But he was unable to finish as the sound of footsteps tromped up the stairs and he was suddenly blindsided by a rather strong woman slinging her arms around his neck.

“Merlin! I wanted to visit earlier, but Uther wouldn’t let me leave. He didn’t want me anywhere near you, but I don’t listen to everything he says.” Morgan pulled back, pushing him to arm's length to look him over. Merlin couldn’t help but laugh, feeling warmth well up in his heart. He had plenty of time to think while he was locked up and he had decided he was going to make sure Morgana didn’t turn out the way she had last time.

If history was intended to repeat itself, Merlin wanted to make sure he changed some of it. When they met Mordred he would make sure everything turned out well with him. Kilgharrah had been as vague as he ever was by simply saying that Arthur would be back, but now that the dragon was gone, he was going to do things his way.

“Of course not, Morgana.” Merlin laughed, smiling broadly at her beaming face. He felt his joy pouring over at that look on her face. He hadn’t seen Morgana smile so genuinely in centuries. She hadn’t smiled so brightly since she’d been in the druid camp when she had discovered she had magic. If she still had magic, Merlin was going to make sure she knew it was alright and she had his help.

“Morgana! Bloody hell, slow down! I can’t keep up with you yet!” Shouts came from the staircase behind Morgan and Gwen and Merlin pushed passed them to hurry in that direction. Arthur was standing on the closest landing, doubled over and panting heavily. Merlin almost tripped going down the stairs so quickly just to reach Arthur.

“You shouldn’t be up!” Merlin exclaimed, grabbing Arthur’s arm and slinging it over his shoulder. The prince chuckled breathlessly as they started up the stairs at a reasonable pace.

“I didn’t know you cared so much, Merlin.” Arthur wheezed, holding a hand on the railing to hold himself up on his other side. Merlin tutted softly but continued to help Arthur up the stairs, barely breaking a sweat as they proceeded into his flat where he assisted Arthur onto one of the sofas.

Arthur leaned back and groaned, relaxing into the soft, well loved cushions of the seat before looking up at Merlin with an odd look Merlin remembered oh so well. It was hard to find a look Merlin hadn’t seen on Arthur’s face at least once before. It was his curious expression, the one he made when Merlin was being mysterious and he was confused and interested.

“Are you sure I don’t look like an old boyfriend? I don’t mind if you’re a homosexual, Merlin, I’m just curious.” Arthur asked, clarifying quickly when Merlin’s mouth dropped open to protest. Chuckling nervously, Merlin shrugged and shuffled his feet, dropping onto the armrest of the other sofa and rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, you don’t. He….he wasn’t my boyfriend.” Merlin responded, locking eyes with Arthur as he spoke. For a moment their eyes remained like this before Arthur turned away, nodding slowly.

“So….you are a homosexual, then?” Arthur asked, lifting an eyebrow and looking back at Merlin with a teasing expression. Merlin felt heat rise up his neck and toward his face and was sure he must be one hideous shade of red right now. He was vaguely aware of Morgan and Gwen behind him, listening to this entire conversation.

“I…I’m-well….” Merlin waved his hands desperately in the air as if this might help him answer, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. He had never really found the opportunity to figure out what he was. His entire life he had spent looking for Arthur to help him restore Camelot to its previous glory. He had only ever loved two people to that extent, and both times they had died in his arms. He was doomed to never find love that he could keep.

“It’s okay, Merlin, Arthur’s just being a prick.” Morgan patted Merlin’s shoulder hard enough to make him jump and turn to look at her so fast he was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. When he looked over at her, she was shooting Arthur a nasty glare that he appeared unfazed by. Gwen was only nodding, having gone silent as soon as Arthur had shown up.

“Right, of course.” Merlin muttered, laughing slightly when Arthur shot him a shocked and offended look. Gwen and Morgana moved around to sit on the sofa beside Merlin and they chatted lazily for several minutes before a lull in the conversation came. Merlin felt almost at home, being with the same people he had come to know centuries earlier. This content was interrupted when Arthur turned to him and leaned on the armrest to the sofa.

“So, Merlin, Morgan here tells me that her, Gaius, and Gwen all look like people you used to know and they share the names with these people. This can’t be a coincidence, especially since all our names are from the Arthurian legends.” Arthur lifted an eyebrow and Merlin felt his blood run cold. Arthur was an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. Merlin had expected this would come up eventually, but he was still nervous.

“Well, see, it’s kind of a long story.” Merlin started, getting ready to go into the whole thing about Camelot and him having magic and how they were all reincarnations of his old friends when Arthur cut him off, waving a lazy hand through the air.

“It’s fine, Merlin, I was joking. It was probably just your imagination. You’re obsessed with the legends, anyway, probably thought they were friends of yours.” Arthur said, leaning further back into the sofa as he said it. Merlin’s brow creased and his mouth dropped open, confusion taking over his person. “When you met us, you just pretended we looked like your old friends, yeah?” Arthur’s explanation was definitely a stretch, Merlin could tell both Morgana and Gwen thought this when he looked toward them.

“Er, no, not exactly.” Merlin responded, giving Arthur a look he realised he hadn’t used in centuries. Arthur must have been crazy, thinking that all this had been in his head. Merlin had a vivid imagination, that came with being a sorcerer, but there was no way he could have imagined all of them and then pretended that he knew them just because their names were the same.

“Whatever.” Arthur brushed him off, closing his eyes for a second before jumping to attention again, surprisingly spry for someone who had nearly died two days previous. “Father doesn’t trust you, and I intend to fix that. I’m just as curious as he is about how you survived the dust poison, so tell me, Merlin, how’d you do it?” Arthur asked, turning back to look at Merlin with that calculating, judgmental stare.

For the millionth time that day, Merlin felt his blood run cold. Telling Arthur it had been magic was out of the question, Arthur was trying to fix Uther’s opinion of him. Considering how difficult it was to change Uther’s opinion, Merlin knew that Arthur was doing him a great favor. For what reason, Merlin didn’t know, but he was grateful and didn’t want to ruin it.

So much for telling Arthur the truth.

“Arthur, stop interrogating the guy, he’s been through a lot.” Morgana scolded, leaning over in her seat on the sofa, toward Merlin. Merlin looked down, grateful for Morgan’s save, but knowing full well that Arthur wasn’t going to leave without an answer.

“Morgana, you know how father is. He’s going to have people watch Merlin to prove or disprove that he’s got magic. And if he proves that he does, he’ll have him killed. I won’t have that.” Arthur explained, giving Morgana a look that said she should back off. Merlin watched as her expression softened and she nodded her head. There was nothing that could save him now, especially since Gwen and Morgana both wanted to keep him safe.

How had he earned their trust so quickly?

“Right, Merlin. How’d you do it?” Arthur turned back to Merlin as soon as he was satisfied that Morgana wasn’t going to ask him anymore questions. Merlin nodded, wringing his hands together as he tried to formulate a lie. A good one, that would throw Arthur off, but not trigger any suspicion in Morgana or Gwen…. Oh, he was doomed.

“Well, see, I, er, I…have a very good immune system.” The words came out sounding a bit too much like a question and had Arthur lifting his brow in question. The prince was about to open his mouth to respond when Gwen spoke up.

“He asked us to get some things from the cupboards. I don’t really remember what they were, but they helped him overcome it, right Morgana?” Gwen supplied, looking at Morgana as she finished her statement, hope that Morgan would play along obvious in her eyes. Morgana didn’t even flinch, turning to Arthur with a calm smile on her face.

“That’s right! I nearly forgot! Merlin said there was something in the cupboard he knew would help, but there wasn’t a lot of it. Even if there had been enough, he said that we didn’t get to you fast enough and it wouldn’t have been effective.” Merlin felt absolute joy overwhelm him as he realised that they were standing up for him. He couldn’t come up with an explanation, so they were doing it for him. He knew he owed them for this, probably the explanation for what actually happened, but he had a feeling they would be more okay with his having magic.

“Really? Merlin, is this true?” Arthur asked, looking over at Merlin who was no longer sweating like a swine up for slaughter. He nodded his head, probably a bit too enthusiastically, but Arthur took it anyway. It would be a long time before Arthur got used to his expressions and mannerisms, and he was glad for it.

“Right, that settles that then. I should probably be off, father will want to hear about this.” Arthur concluded the conversation, pushing himself into a proper sitting position before rising slowly to his feet. Merlin stood, on instinct, to help him, but was waved off when the prince refused his assistance. Taking a step back, Merlin watched Arthur rise as he had done many times before. There was something surreal about seeing him do it in a hoodie and jeans.

“Morgana, father will want to see you too. Your words will reassure him. I will see you later then, Merlin. Gwen.” With this curt goodbye, Arthur headed for the door, followed shortly by Morgana, who gave Merlin a small hug as she left. Her body language said goodbye, but her eyes told him she would be back and she wanted to hear the real story when she returned.

Once the door had shut behind them – having been properly replaced once Merlin had returned – Merlin dropped back onto the sofa, joined by Gwen only moments after. For a while, they were silent, but Merlin knew Gwen and staying silent was not her strongest point.

“Merlin?” She asked, turning her body so she was facing him. Knowing this was coming, Merlin turned slightly, humming a response to encourage her to go on. “What really happened? That woman, she was definitely here for you. And you said she had meant to kill, slowly and painfully. Why was she here to kill you? And how did you survive a spell that had the prince in the hospital and all the doctors stumped?” It was just like the Gwen he had known, her curiosity was her strongest point and what kept her out of most dangerous situations.

“Like I said, it’s a long story. If you want to hear it, it’s probably best Morgana be here too, or I’d have to tell it twice.” Merlin responded, realizing this was a bad reason to put off telling her. Gwen nodded, paused for a moment, then continued to nod as she turned away. She was far from relieved, but she didn’t push the subject.

Well, for a few seconds, anyway.

“Was it magic? Was that why you came up with such a horrible lie when Arthur asked you how you’d managed it?” Gwen asked, turning back to him suddenly, her curiosity never quenched. Merlin looked back at her, lifting an eyebrow.

“Gwen….” His tone was warning, but he refused to answer her question. Not giving her a straight answer might prepare her for when he did give a straight answer, because he knew it would be a shock. It had taken years to get the old Gwen used to the idea of magic, and she had warmed up to it rather quickly once she had known it was Merlin who had saved her husband so many times.

“Right, right! Sorry, I just really want to know.” Gwen threw her hands up in surrender, clearly still uncomfortable with not knowing the answer. Merlin appreciated her willingness to put it off in favor of giving him space.

“Thanks. I promise, I will tell you. Just not yet.” Merlin said, turning away as well, leaning back and rubbing his face from exhaustion. He had been exhausted since the stint of saving Arthur, using so much magic all at once was something he wasn’t used to anymore. He hadn’t found the need to do so since Arthur’s last days. Granted, he still used lots of magic, but never so much in such a short amount of time. It was still wearing on him.

“Well, I should leave you. You look tired and I have to get back to work.” Gwen pushed herself off the sofa and Merlin joined her, pushing back the groan that threatened to surface from the effort. Gwen gave Merlin a small hug before saying goodbye and leaving the flat, closing the door gently behind her.

Merlin was completely alone.

For all of two seconds before the lights flickered off and back on, revealing Nimueh standing before the door. Merlin took a step back and felt his magic well up inside of him, threatening to attack her the instant she showed signs of attacking him.

“Merlin, I’m not here to kill you.” Nimueh whimpered, mock upset that Merlin would dare think such a thing. “Not this time.” She added, expression turning smoldering, eyes narrowing and guard coming up. She was teasing him, he could tell, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down in case she did try to kill him.

“Why are you here? How do you know me when the others don’t?” Merlin demanded, holding himself back from asking more questions. He wasn’t about to replace Kilgharrah with Nimueh as his seer. He refrained from looking into prophecy since Kilgharrah had passed. Even with the new developments, he still refused to go to the Crystal Cave.

“I’m here to restore the Old Religion, Emrys, you should know this. As for how I know you, that’s also obvious. I’m a High Priestess of the Old Religion.” Nimueh responded, tucking her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, looking far too casual for a psychopathic sorceress hell bent on killing him.

“How can you be a High Priestess? They died off when I killed Morgana.” Merlin had never had the chance to fully understand the workings of the Old Religion. He’d asked Gaius and Kilgharrah when he could, written down as much as they told him, but even they had no idea what happened to the order of the Priestess’ when they all died off.

“It’s my birthright, Merlin, I don’t need someone to appoint me to what I rightfully deserve.” Nimueh hissed, taking a step forward, but not removing her hands from her pockets. Merlin knew she could still cast whatever she wanted without her hands, though, so he remained defensive.

“Right, okay. But you were a High Priestess in Camelot’s day and you didn’t know me then, how do you know me now? How much do you know, anyway?” Merlin questioned, glad he was getting some answers even if they were from his nemesis. If history truly did repeat itself, she wasn’t going to be a threat for very long. If history did repeat itself, Morgana was going to replace her. He wasn’t going to let that happen.

“I’ve got my methods, Emrys. The druids haven’t died out entirely, you know.” Nimueh gave him an evil smirk and Merlin felt his blood truly begin to boil. She wouldn’t dare threaten the druids! They were a peaceful people, her people! “I know enough to know that it may not be my destiny to kill you or Arthur, as it was last time, but that I will weaken you for the one who is destined to end you.” Nimueh responded, beginning to laugh as she said this.

Merlin recalled when Nimueh had first shown up to try and kill him, she had gotten him to drink a poisoned chalice intended for Arthur. When Arthur had gone off to find the antidote, Nimueh had tried to kill Arthur. At the time, Merlin had figured she had left Arthur to die, unaware of anything other than that Arthur was going to die in that cave. What he had learned later was that she had learned of Arthur’s destiny and how his was entwined with Merlin’s. She had backed off after that, only coming into the picture again when Arthur’s life was on the line. Even then, she had refused to kill either him or Arthur.

“What do you mean? I am immortal, no mortal weapon can kill me.” As he shouted this at her – the wind had picked up in the middle of his flat – he recalled the spell she had aimed at him and the fact that Excalibur had ended Morgana. Whoever was intended to be his doom either knew magic strong enough to kill the greatest sorcerer of all time, or possessed Excalibur. Or even Excalibur’s dark twin.

“You already know what I mean, Emrys!” Nimueh cackled, lifting his arms out of her pockets and picking up the wind. It became stronger and stronger until, finally, Merlin was forced to look away. As soon as his eyes were shut and his arm covered his face, the wind died out.

Upon opening his eyes, Nimueh was gone. This was just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Time: Adventures resume as if 2,000 years hadn't even passed.


End file.
